


Casting Moonshadows

by Moonsign



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Era, Child Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First War, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, MWPP, Marauder's Era, Period-Typical Homophobia, Remus POV, Requited Unrequited Love, Sirius PoV, Violence, please suggest tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-01-01 03:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 62
Words: 244,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12147474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonsign/pseuds/Moonsign
Summary: Lonely and outcast by his classmates, Remus wishes on a moonshadow for a friend who understands him. To his amazement his wish is answered not once, but three times, by his former enemies, the Marauders.





	1. Blood and Moonshadows

**Author's Note:**

> This story is available in French, Portuguese, Korean, German, Danish, Polish, Swedish, and Chinese, and the links can be found [here](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1210536/Moonsign)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is being transferred to AO3 from FF; in the meantime, the full fic (so far) 86 chapters can be found [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3378356/1/Casting-Moonshadows)  
> 

_I'm being followed by a moonshadow,_

_moonshadow, moonshadow_

_Leaping and a hopping on a moonshadow,_

_moonshadow, moonshadow_

_And if I ever lose my eyes,_

_If my colours all run dry,_

_Yes, if I ever lose my eyes,_

_Hey… I won't have to cry no more_

_(Cat Stevens)_

**REMUS:**

Remus had always thought of memories as being like framed photographs on a shelf. Most of them were placed in the sun and faded over time. Sometimes the colour faded, leaving only a vague sense of the time; the outlines of a memory that changed a little with retelling. Sometimes it was the outlines that faded so the colour remained in bright, vivid blurs – a real sense of the time but no details.

Other memories were placed in the dark, overlaid by shadows. It was these memories – the ones you wanted to forget – that didn't lose their colour or potency over time.

For Remus, the most vivid of the shadow-memories was his memory of That Night. That Night had repercussions that sent vibrations that echoed and changed events for the rest of his life. This memory - the one he most wanted to fade and change - was the one that would always remain with him in the most vivid detail.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

What Remus always remembered about his mother, long after the other memories had faded and grown dull, was her love of the moonlight. As the potions mistress for their local apothecary, her job often required for her to venture out at night to collect ingredients. On these nights, when the sky was clear and the moon hung full-bellied and saturated with light, she would creep into Remus's room without bothering to turn on the lights. Wrapping his outdoor cloak over his pyjamas and pressing his little feet into his shoes, she would take his hand and lead him out of the house, through the garden gate and into the thick woodland that backed onto their cottage.

As she worked, Serena Lupin would sing the Muggle songs of her childhood while Remus capered wildly at her side, joining in with his high childish soprano, and watching his moonshadow as it flickered and leapt among the darker shadows of the trees.

Remus knew that magic existed – he had grown up in a magical household after all – but the sight of the silver-blue moonshadows and the haunting sound of his mother's voice seemed to weave a different kind of magic in the forest. It was less certain, but more tangible. Electric and wild and at the same time safe and private.

Remus's father never joined them in their escapades. Those moonlit nights were a thing that had belonged between the two of them and no one else was allowed to intrude. Remus, being so young at the time, hadn't realised how much his father resented the fact that his wild, unpredictable wife loved her son so much more than anyone else in the world. John Lupin worshipped the ground she walked on and Serena, in turn, regarded him with affectionate tolerance.

And so he would watch darkly from the bedroom window as the two little figures danced hand in hand into the forest, snatches of Muggle songs fading in their wake.

" _Memory, all alone in the moonlight, has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone…"_

" _Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars! Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars…_

_"What a marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…"_

And most often, as they emerged from the forest again, hands clasped, eyes bright, choking on joy and wild magic as Remus's mother picked him up and whirled him above her head:

" _I'_ _m being followed by a moonshadow! Moonshadow, moonshadow! Leaping and a hopping on a moonshadow, moonshadow moonshadow!_

 _And if I ever loose my hands, loose my plough, loose my lands. Yes, if I ever loose my hands, hey –_ _I won'_ _t have to work no more…"_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was perhaps no surprise, then, that on the night that John Lupin came home from his work at the Ministry with the news that the werewolf, Fenrir Grayback, had escaped from the secure ward for the criminally insane at St. Mungos, that Remus had turned to the moonlight for comfort.

On That Night – the night when everything changed in a rush of violence and blood and moonshadows, Remus crept out of bed on small, nightmare-trembly feet and down to hall to his parents' room in search of his mother to comfort him. He stopped when he heard the sound of arguing inside. He had never heard his parents arguing before. His father hated upsetting his mother and she was usually too lost in her own world to pay enough attention to an argument for it to become very heated.

Remus crept up to the door and pressed his ear against the wood.

"… Can't go in there now. Even for ingredients. Who knows where he is?" John was saying. "I can order them for you from work."

"But I  _like_ getting my own ingredients," Serena protested, her voice pleading, "It's the whole reason I became a potions mistress in the first place! How long until you catch him?"

"I don't  _know!_ " John snapped back. "If we knew where he bloody well was, don't you think we'd have caught him by now? He blames  _me_  for putting him in there, because I was the one who caught him. He wants revenge on  _me_  and he's insane. Do you think I could live with myself if he attacked you to get to me?"

"It's not  _fair_!"

"I don't  _care_! You're  _not_ going out there, Serena, and that's final!"

Remus pulled away, a strange squirmy feeling in his belly that made him want to be sick. He didn't understand what they were talking about and he didn't dare interrupt them. As he crept back down the hall towards his room, he passed the hall window. The full moon hung close and heavy in the sky, casting a brilliant square moonbeam through the glass to bleach the wooden floor.

Remus felt a sudden rush of desire for Muggle songs and the moonshadows. He needed to feel that cold silver light on his head to help him forget the sounds of his parents' anger and the wriggling in his belly.

He crept downstairs and stood on tiptoe to draw the bolt on the back door. He opened it as quietly as he could and padded out into the back garden. He wasn't stupid, and knew he shouldn't go into the forest on his own, so he settled for shuffling through the thick cool grass of their lawn, murmuring softly to himself; " _I_ _'_ _m being followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow moonshadow. And if I ever loose my legs, I won'_ _t moan and I won'_ _t beg. Yes if I ever loose my legs. Hey –_ _I won'_ _t have to walk no more…"_

He lay back in the thick grass and stared up at the full moon. Apart from his mother the full moon was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. It looked so solid – as though there was no way it should have been able to stay up in the sky without a string, and its pale glow seemed to come from another world. Under its round-bellied gaze, Remus felt the last shreds of his fear dissolve and disappear.

The silence was broken by a rustling in the hedgerow at the edge of the garden. Remus sat up and turned to stare at it, his heart beating wildly. All of a sudden he wasn't so sure he should be out here on his own. Who knew what kind of horrible creatures came out at night when his mother wasn't there to keep them away?

Frozen with fear, he stared hard at the bush that had rustled, and jumped when it moved again. Suddenly, two twin orbs of glimmering yellow-gold appeared in the shadows beside the bush. It was a moment before Remus realised they were eyes.

Spurred into action by his terror, Remus leaped to his feet and turned to run back towards the cottage as fast as his short legs could carry him. He wished more than anything that he had not come so far down their long garden. There was a soft thud behind him as the creature leapt from the cover of the bush and took off after him. He could hear the rhythmic thump at the footsteps grew closer to him and he glanced over his shoulder.

The sight made him stumble, trip, crash to the ground. The creature was huge –  _a wolf_ , his mind screamed, throwing up images of the monsters in the fairytales his mother read to him at night. He screamed as it leaped at him, landing on his chest and knocking the air out of him. Tears of pain blurred the image of the wolf as it lunged at him with open jaws. Remus managed to scream a second time as he felt teeth sink into his shoulder and chest. The pain ripped white-hot and jagged through his whole body.

" _REMUS!_ "

He felt the weight lifted as the wolf was flung off his chest. It flew through the air to land a few feet away. Panting and sobbing, Remus turned his head to see a figure with flyaway tawny hair place herself between him and the wolf. His mother raised her wand again, but she wasn't quick enough. The wolf rolled and leapt again, this time landing on Serena and bearing her to the ground.

"Mum…" Remus had meant to scream the word, but he could barely breathe from the pain, let alone talk. He watched paralyzed and horror stricken as those bloody white teeth lunged at her neck and ripped again and again.

" _Oh God! SERENA!_ "

For the second time that night, the wolf was flung into the air. This time Remus saw his father standing there in his pajama bottoms. Even with his vision blurred with pain and blood loss, he noticed that John Lupin stood between his wife and the wolf, leaving his son open to another attack.

A beam of green light shot from John's wand towards the wolf who managed to leap out of the way in time. It hesitated for a moment, then as John raised his wand again, turned to lope back into the forest. John took off after him, his body crackling with magic and rage.

Remus turned again to look towards his mother. She was covered in blood. He had never seen so much blood. It looked thick and black in the moonlight. He rolled onto his stomach and the pain lanced through him. He whimpered quietly.

"Re…mus?"

Her voice was so weak. He had never heard her sound weak before.

"Rem…mus, my …baby?"

Her words were broken with shudders. Remus used all his strength to pull himself towards her. The pain was so terrible it seemed like a whole separate part of him now. After what seemed like a century, he reached her and peered down. To his horror he could see bone, tendon and muscle, torn and bloody at her throat.

"Live R…Remus." Serena managed. "Promise me? Don't…let them t-turn you into a m-monster like him. The w-wolf hasn't changed you. Say it Remus!"

"W-wolf hasn't ch-changed me," Remus repeated tearfully, unable to look at her eyes, only at the gash in her neck.

"G-good boy. R-rememb-b-ber that."

She was getting fuzzy round the edges. Remus thought she might be saying something else, but he couldn't hear anymore. His head was filled with a fizzing sound that made it too heavy for his neck. It flopped forward into the blood-soaked grass by his mother's shoulder and he felt himself sucked backwards into unconsciousness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs quoted (in order) and their artists: Moonshadow – Cat Stevens, Memory – Andrew Lloyd Webber, Fly Me To The Moon - Written by Bart Howard in 1954 and originally sung by Kaye Ballard, Moondance – Van Morrison


	2. A White Sheep Named Black

_I am what I am_

_And what I am needs no excuses_

_I deal my own deck_

_Sometimes the ace_

_Sometimes the deuces_

_It's my life and there's no return and no deposit_

_One life, so it's time to open up your closet_

_Life's not worth a damn 'til you can say_

_Hey, I am what I am_

_(Shirley Bassey)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius never meant to become a white sheep in the Moste Ancient and Noble Family Black. It had happened so gradually that, to begin with, he hadn't even noticed. It had started with normal childish defiance: Sirius had always been one to test boundries – needing to find out exactly how far he could push his mother before she snapped and punished him. Being brought up, for the most part, by the family house elves, Sirius longed to gain the attention of his haughty mother and almost permanently absent father, and he found that the most effective way to do this was by getting into trouble.

It started with little things. He stole a jar of enchanted colour-changing nail vanish from his cousin, Narsissa, and painted a handlebar moustache like Uncle Alphard's on his Grandmother's portrait which hung in the hall. Unfortunately for Geminus Black's portrait-self, the nail varnish was designed to be everlasting, so her portrait was taken down and hidden in the attic. Sirius was spanked and locked in the cellar for a day where he screamed and beat small fists against the door, afraid of the shadowy bulks of the wine-barrels and the skittering things in dark corners.

One Christmas Eve a few months after his seventh birthday, he spent a quietly productive night chewing up thirteen packets of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and sticking it into his sleeping cousin Bellatrix's hair. The resulting drama the next morning was well worth another spanking and the confiscation of his pocket money for two weeks.

Undeterred, and drunk on the attention and his creativity, Sirius pulled his next prank when the Malfoy family came to visit for a dinner party. Lucius Malfoy had sneered at Sirius's new green velvet dress robe and Sirius smiled brightly at him, then later enlisted the help of his little brother, Regulus, to lure Lucius away from the main party and into a spare room in which Geminus Black's old Swallowing Chair was stored. It was only much later, when the Malfoys were due to leave, that the older boy was discovered swallowed up to his neck by the massive, fur-upholstered chair, swearing fluently at Sirius and Regulus who were painting the older boy's white-blonde locks with coloured streaks of glittery pink and violet food colouring.

Only his favourite cousin Andromeda, and Great Uncle Alphard seemed to appreciate his efforts towards causing chaos in the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black. At the time he hadn't realised that they recognised in him the same defiance towards his family that they had found in themselves. As Sirius's mother pushed him further away from her and her ideals through constant criticism and punishment, Andromeda and Alphard quietly took him under their wings, creating a small flock of white sheep among the Black.

Sirius grew to love his two protectors more than his parents, and when Andromeda announced her engagement to the Muggleborn, Ted Tonks, three weeks before Sirius's tenth birthday and was consequently disowned and burnt off the Black Family Tree, Sirius's efforts at mischief turned from a bid for attention and into a subtle way to get revenge on behalf of his favourite cousin.

"You'll go the same way she did!" shrieked Walburga Black as she furiously directed the house elves to catch the twelve nifflers that were tearing the house apart in search of shiny items.

Sirius had saved his pocket money for months to afford the nifflers, and hoped his mother wasn't going to drown them.

"Are you  _listening to me_  Sirius Orion Black? I swear I will  _burn_ you off the family tree if you keep behaving the way you do!"

"Well, maybe I don't  _care_!" Sirius screamed back, "Maybe I think that it would be  _better_ to be like Andromeda than like you!"

"DON'T YOU  _DARE_ SPEAK HER NAME IN THIS HOUSE AGAIN, THE FILTHY MUGGLE-LOVING  _BLOOD TRAITOR!_ "

Before Sirius had a chance to react, his mother had slapped him hard across the face with the back of her hand. He felt the big ring with the family crest cut into his cheek as he fell to the floor. His mother had never struck him before. Ordered him to be beaten by house elves, yes, but never actually struck him herself. Sirius's hatred hardened to diamond and lodged in his chest.

"I  _like_ Ted!" Sirius actually felt himself shaking with fury. "He's kind and funny and  _I don_ _'_ _t care that he'_ _s a mudblood!_ "

He opened his mouth to say more, but she leaned down and slapped him again, before picking him up and dragging him to the kitchen and throwing him into the cellar. He was there for two whole days, the longest time he could ever remember being punished for, and his hate and anger grew through each dark hour.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius woke with a jerk in the early hours of the morning he was due to leave for Hogwarts. He sat up in bed, listening, and smiled when he heard the tentative knock the second time.

"Come in, Reg," he called softly to his little brother. The door creaked open and nine-year-old Regulus crept in and scrambled up onto his brother's bed.

"I don't want you to go to school," he whispered to Sirius. "What'll I do without you to protect me from Mum?"

"You don't need protection," Sirius said, grinning at his brother in the darkness. "I'm the bad one. You only sometimes get into trouble 'cos I make you."

"But I'll miss you here."

"I'll miss you too, Reg."

Sirius leant over and hugged him around the shoulders. Neither of the boys were used to physical signs of affection and it felt awkward and warmly comforting at the same time.

"You'll write to me?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "I'll write and tell you about all the brilliant pranks I plan to pull on all our slimy Slytherin cousins."

"But you're going to be a Slytherin. If you pull pranks on all of them, who will be your friend?"

Sirius leant back in his bed, regarding his little brother. Regulus' face looked pale and worried in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. He came to decision.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"A secret?" Regulus said uncertainly. "What secret?"

"I'll only tell you if you promise to keep it."

"Okay. I promise." Regulus leant forward, his face eager.

"I am not going to  _be_ in Slytherin."

" _What?_ "

"Shhh!" Sirius hissed, slapping his hand over his brother's mouth.

Regulus batted his hand away, staring at him open-mouthed. "What do you mean you won't be in Slytherin?  _Everyone_ is in Slytherin. You  _can_ _'_ _t_ be anywhere else. The only other person who was in another House was Andromeda and she…" Regulus trailed off as he suddenly understood. " _That_ _'_ _s_ why isn't it? 'Cos of what Mum did to Andromeda! Come on Sirius! Do you want that to happen to you? She'll hate you – more than she already does! Besides, you can't  _choose_ what house to be in."

"Yes you can," Sirius said. "Well, not what house you will be in, but you can choose what house you  _don'_ _t_ want to be in. That's what Andromeda did. She said to the Sorting Hat that she didn't want to be in Slytherin, so it put her in Ravenclaw."

"She  _didn'_ _t!_ " Regulus whispered in tones of horrified awe.

"She did, too."

"But what if it doesn't put you in Ravenclaw? What if it puts you in Hufflepuff? Or  _Gryffindor?_  What if it put you in Gryffindor? No one in our family would ever forgive you!"

"You would, wouldn't you?" Sirius asked, suddenly uncertain.

"You  _want_ to go into Gryffindor?" Regulus shifted away from Sirius on the bed, as though his disturbing Gryffindor tendencies were contagious.

"Please Reg, say you'll forgive me even if it puts me there." Sirius reached out to grab Regulus' wrist as he moved away.

"Mum'll kill me!"

"Please?"

"Sirius…" Regulus turned to stare at the shaft of silver moonlight from the window. "Okay, okay. I promise I won't hate you. But I can't promise I'll stand up for you." He looked at Sirius with tears in his eyes. "I'm not brave like you. You  _would_ make a good Gryffindor. You're stubborn and brave and do stupid things without thinking. But I can't stand up to Mum like you can."

Sirius felt a clench of pain in his heart, as though it had twisted and been yanked roughly up in his chest. He wondered if this was what Andromeda had felt as she watched her name being burnt off the family tree. He wanted to scream at Regulus, tell him that brothers should stand up for each other no matter what. But he couldn't. Regulus was right. He wasn't as brave as Sirius. In fact, saying that he would support Sirius even secretly was the bravest thing he had ever done.

"It's okay, Regulus. As long as I know that you secretly don't hate me it'll be fine." He hesitated for a second, then said, "Even if I wanted to be in Slytherin, I have the feeling I couldn't be. Can you think of  _any_ Slytherin-ish qualities I have? At least this way I'll have made my choice."

Regulus didn't answer. He just leaned over and gave his brother another one of those awkward hugs before slipping out of the bed and tiptoing to the door.

"I really  _will_ miss you, you big, stupid Gryffindor," he whispered as he got there.

"Shut up, you git!" Sirius hissed back, that pain in his heart slowly fading.

Regulus huffed a laugh and shut the door behind him.


	3. The Elusive Friend

_When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,_

_I all alone beweep my outcast state,_

_And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries,_

_And look upon myself and curse my fate,_

_Wishing me like one more rich in hope_

_Featur'd like him, like him with friends posses'd_

_(Sonnet 29 – Shakespeare)_

**REMUS:**

The day Remus got his Hogwarts letter was the happiest day of his life. He was sitting at the breakfast table, eating a piece of toast while shooting glances at father; waiting for the moment when John Lupin would look up, sneer in disgust, and tell him that he didn't like animals at the table and to get out of his sight. His father was reading The Daily Prophet and seemed engrossed in an article, so Remus allowed himself to slow down a little. Sometimes he only had time for a few bites before he was chased away, either to the back garden with its high walls so he couldn't escape, or to his room down in the basement of the cottage.

The basement had been his bedroom since That Night because the walls and doors were thick enough to contain a transformed werewolf. By now, Remus's mattress and other bedroom furnishings – sparse though they were - were permanently shredded and spotted with blood. Only his few most treasured possessions, which he stored on top of his wardrobe, were saved.

Sometimes Remus wondered if he wouldn't have been better off if his father  _had_ turned him over the Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry rather than keeping him trapped at home through some feeling of duty towards the dead wife he'd had loved so much. At times the cabin fever got so bad that Remus thought the wolf would tear right through his skin in an effort to escape.

When things really got too bad, he would creep into his mother's old potions lab and curl up under the table, imagining he could hear her low humming and the clinking of cauldrons and spoons as she worked. But even his thoughts of her were tainted with his memories of the moonlit trips into the forest behind their house. Whenever he thought of the moon now, his heart hammered in hate, fear and remembered pain, and he could feel the wolf howling triumphantly inside. His occasional and very brief trips to Diagon Alley with his reluctant father were the highlights of his five miserable years as a werewolf.

It was while Remus was thinking longingly of another trip to London that the large tawny owl flew in through the half open back door. Remus watched it with vague interest, expecting it to drop a letter at his father's place, and was amazed when it headed towards him instead, letting a letter fall onto his crumby plate.

"What's that?" His father demanded.

"I don't know." Remus picked up the letter gingerly. "It's addressed to me…" His voice trailed off as he noticed the coat of arms on the wax seal. It was divided into four sections, a lion, a badger, a eagle and a serpent residing in each one.

"What is it?" His father reached over and tried to snatch the letter away.

Remus clung to it, heart hammering. "I think it's from Hogwarts," he whispered, barely able to believe it.  _Hogwarts!_ He remembered his mother's stories of it: a massive castle up in Scotland full of magic, children, enchanted ceilings and disappearing stairs. He had never in his wildest dreams thought that they might allow him – a revolting little dark creature – within its walls.

John Lupin looked too shocked to even punish Remus for trying to evade his grasp. "Why would they let something like  _you_ go to Hogwarts?"

Remus opened the letter with trembling fingers.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Lupin,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await you owl by no later than 31 July_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

On another piece of parchment, a more personalised letter read,

_Mr Lupin,_

_We are aware of your Lycanthropy and should you choose to accept your place at Hogwarts, we will provide a safe place for your transformation each month as well as health care from our school healer, Poppy Pomfrey for any injuries you might sustain. You will have a meeting with the headmaster after the Sorting Feast on the first day of term to arrange the details._

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Let me see that," John said, snatching the letters from his son's hand and scanning them with disbelief. "They offered you a place?"

Remus couldn't answer. He was still in shock. As the news gradually began to sink in, he felt a smile begin to form on his face and a strange kind of tightness build in his chest. Those letters not only accepted him into Hogwarts, but also addressed him as if he were a human being rather than an animal. Remus had had very little contact with anyone except for his father in the years following That Night and he was amazed that someone who didn't even know him could treat him this way.

Suddenly, for the first time in many years, he remembered his mother's voice as she died.

_"Don't let them turn you into a monster like him. The wolf hasn't changed you. Say it Remus!"_

"The wolf hasn't changed me," he repeated now, voice reverent.

His father glared at him, his hatred hot coals in amber eyes. For some reason he looked furious.

"You're still a dark creature," he said, low and shaking. "This doesn't make you human. This doesn't make you like us. You're an animal and a murderer. If it weren't for you, Serena would still be alive. You think the wolf hasn't changed you? Just look in the mirror, boy."

Remus ducked his head. "Yes father."

"Don't ever forget it!"

 _As if I could,_ Remus thought, glancing down at his upper arm that was still bandaged from his transformation a few days ago.  _As if I ever could._

_"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""_

Many weeks later, Remus found himself standing uncertainly between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross station. He was dressed in faded Muggle clothing and dragged a battered trunk behind him. After Fenrir Greyback's attack, John Lupin hadn't been able to face working for the Ministry anymore and as a result, money was always tight. His father had reluctantly taken Remus to Diagon Alley for his school supplies a few weeks before, and although all his belongings were second-hand, they were more than Remus could ever remember owning before.

John Lupin had loaded his son onto the Knight Bus that morning, with a few instructions for how to get onto the platform, yet Remus couldn't quite find the courage to take that last step. Having been shut away from the world for most of his life, he found so many people and so much space around him almost more than he could take. It was like finding himself gasping for breath after running to hard, even though the breaths themselves burned and ached in his chest and part of him longed to stop breathing altogther.

As he stared at the barrier, a woman and a boy with very messy black hair and glasses approached. The boy was dragging a trunk behind him that looked shiny and new and had the name J. M. Potter engraved on the front.

The woman glanced at Remus as they approached and took in his trunk and lost expression.

"Are you also new, love?" she asked him.

Remus was so terrified at being addressed like a human by a stranger, that he could only stare at her dumbly.

She glanced down at the crumpled ticket in his left hand and obviously caught a glimpse of the station platform, because she put a hand between his shoulder blades and gave him a gentle shove towards the barrier.

"Just walk straight through," she directed him.

Remus wordlessly obeyed, towing his trunk behind him. He closed his eyes as he neared the barrier and sped up a little, bracing himself for the impact. When none came, he opened his eyes and found himself on a new platform, surrounded by chattering students and parents, trunks and hooting owls secured in their cages. He stared around in wonder. It was like Diagon Alley, but even noisier. A huge red steam train stood waiting for the students to board.

"Where are you parents, love?"

He swung round to see the woman and the black-haired boy standing behind him again.

"Aren't they here to see you off?"

The thought of his father standing with him now, looking proud of him, giving him a kiss goodbye was so ridiculous that Remus felt a bubble of bitter laughter well up in his chest. To his horror, it didn't stop there, and emerged from his mouth in a harsh grating sound that sounded wrong and rough and odd.

He obviously wasn't the only one who thought so, because the woman took a worried step back and the black-haired boy suddenly looked furious.

"Don't laugh at my mother!" he said angrily, "How dare you!"

"James, don't – " The woman began, but Remus had already stopped laughing as quickly as he had started. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to get away, and turned to hurry as fast as he could towards the nearest train door, dragging his trunk behind him. Since most of the students were still on the platform, there were plenty of free compartments and Remus slipped into one of these nearly sobbing relief. He shoved his trunk under his seat and sat down, shrinking away from the window so he was shielded by curtains as he stared out at the station.

He knew he should have talked politely to the lady. He knew he shouldn't have laughed, or that he should have stayed and explained why he had. But he had panicked and now the black-haired boy hated him and his mother thought he was rude or insane.

Slowly the train began to fill up. A few people glanced in his compartment, and seeing him, moved on. At last, a small boy who looked to be about Remus's age with black greasy hair and a rather large nose stalked in. He glanced witheringly at Remus, shoved a trunk under the bench opposite and sat down on it, pulling out a battered book that Remus recognised as the first year Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. He began to read.

Remus watched him uncertainly. He knew that in order to make friends he needed to actually speak to people, but he wished he'd had more practice.

"Hello?" he tried.

The boy raised dark eyes from his book and looked at Remus with the air of a zoologist waiting to see if an unusual animal was about to start barking.

"My name is Remus Lupin," Remus said, his hands clenching into nervous fists in his lap.

"Severus Snape," the boy said, before turning his eyes back to his book.

Remus wondered whether this meant they were friends, now. What did friends do? Did they just sit together like this? Did they talk? He thought he should allow Severus Snape to make the next move, but the boy just sat there again, engrossed in his book. There was a loud thud from outside outside, a muttered exclamation of pain, and the door to their compartment slid open again. To Remus' dismay, it was the messy-haired boy off the platform, lugging his heavy trunk behind him.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, glancing towards Snape. Then he spotted Remus huddled in the corner. "Oh it's you," he said with disgust. "You little git - you upset my mother!"

"I did nothing to your mother," Snape snapped, looking up from his book.

"Not you, him." The boy pointed at Remus.

"I-I didn't m-mean – " Remus stuttered, glancing towards Snape. He didn't want his new friend to think he was crazy.

"You can't even talk properly," the messy-haired boy said, flicked a withering look over Remus's hunched form. "I can't think how – "

"No, you may not sit here," Snape interrupted. "You're rude and you talk too much."

"No one asked your opinion, slime-ball."

Snape sneered and turned back to his book.

The boy blinked, then turned to Remus again. "You deserve each other!" he said, voice harsh. "No wonder your parents didn't come and see you off. They probably didn't want to admit you were their son!"

Remus felt a flare of hurt and rage rise in him, and the wolf woke and peered through his eyes. It whispered at him to leap at the boy and hammer him into the ground until that messy hair was matted with blood...he fought it. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to go to Hogwarts and be normal like everyone else. He wanted the wolf not to have changed him.

 _Stay back,_ he thought desperately to the raging wolf within him,  _Stay away, leave me, I don't need you. Stay until you have to come. Please, please, stay back._

"You  _are_ crazy!" the boy said, standing over him.

It was only then Remus realised he had been muttering out loud. His fists were clenched and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Hey, what's going on?"

All three turned their heads towards the new voice. It was a small boy like themselves with glossy black hair and smoky grey eyes. He was peering out of the compartment on the opposite side of the corridor with interest.

"He's completely mental," The messy-haired boy stated, pointing an accusing finger in Remus's direction. Remus resisted the urge to bite it.

"You can come sit in here if you like," the new boy offered. "I'm Sirius Black. You  _have_ to be a Potter. I'd know the hair and glasses anywhere."

"Black?" asked the Potter boy. "As in Moste Ancient – "

"and Noble House of Black blah blah rhubbarb and custard…yes," Black said, making a face.

When Potter looked doubtful, Black gestured to Snape and Remus. "Would you rather sit in there?" he asked.

Potter shrugged and picked up the end of his trunk again, dragging it across the corridor to Black's compartment. "I'm James Potter, by the way. You were right."

They both laughed and the door slammed shut behind them. Remus felt himself relaxing.

"Thank you," he murmured to Snape.

"I didn't do it for you," Snape said, without looking up from his book. "I didn't like him. He was rude and loud and had Gryffindor written all over him."

"Is that a bad thing?" Remus asked, remembering that both his parents had been in Ravenclaw.

"Of course," Snape sneered. "Who would want to be in  _Gryffindor_? They're thickheaded, brash and idiotic. The only house worth being in is Slytherin."

Remus didn't answer. He had avidly read  _Hogwarts: A History_ over the summer, and knew a lot about the four different houses. He didn't want to be in Slytherin. They were known for their prejudice and pureblood principles. If a werewolf was discovered amongst them, Remus was terrified of what would happen. He didn't want to be in Ravenclaw either. They were too good at solving puzzles, and they were bound to put together what his monthly disappearances meant sooner rather than later. He had thought that Gryffindor had sounded ideal, but if that Potter boy was an indication of the kind of people that went into that house, he didn't want to be there either. Perhaps he could ask to be sorted into Hufflepuff. The thought was almost comical. A werewolf in Hufflepuff.

Neither he, nor Snape spoke again as the train meandered its way up central England and towards the wilds of Scotland.


	4. Reputations and Invisibility Cloaks

_You could learn a lot from crayons._

_Some are sharp, some are pretty._

_Some are dull while others are bright._

_Some have weird names._

_But we all have to learn to live in the same box._

_(_ _Debbie Graves Ratcliffe)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius's mother and Regulus accompanied him to the station on his first day of school. They stood close to the barrier of the platform, away from most of the crowd.

"Filled with mudbloods and half-bloods." Walburga sneered at the other students and their parents. "It's disgusting."

Sirius didn't say anything. His stomach was churning with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he stared at the red steam train that stood proudly on the tracks, belching white steam that drifted in clouds across the platform.

"And you," Walburga's long, manicured nails dug into his skin through his shirt. "If I hear any bad reports from you this year, you will be severely punished when you come home. Do you understand me?" Her cold, grey eyes gleamed with malice and dislike.

"Yes, Mum," he murmured, turning his head so he wouldn't have to look into her face. His eyes met with Regulus's who raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word 'Gryffindor'. Sirius winced and his mother shoved him away.

"Get on with it, then."

She and Regulus turned and went back through the barrier. Regulus glanced over his shoulder at the last minute and shot Sirius a sympathetic sort of look.

Sighing, Sirius turned and made his way towards the train. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost walked into the back of a woman with dark, auburn hair and hazel eyes who appeared to be talking rather sharply with her sullen-looking son. Sirius hadn't grown up in an obsessively pureblood family without being able to recognise the defining characteristics in all the oldest pureblood lines. The glasses and messy hair were unmistakeable, as was the colour of the woman's hair. The Potter men were known for their weakness for redheads.

"… No need to be so rude to the poor little thing," she was saying to the boy. "He probably didn't mean anything by it. He was nervous and alone. Really, James - have some compassion."

"He  _laughed_ at you, Mum!" The boy gestured angrily towards the train. "He had no right to do that! Even if he wasn't brought up as a wizard, Muggles  _do_ have manners."

The woman sighed and shook her head. She reached out and ruffled the boy's hair, before pulling him into a quick hug. "Let's not argue about it - it doesn't matter," she said. "Just try and have a good time and stay out of trouble. Don't go pranking the professors and getting detention in your first week, okay?"

Sirius's ears pricked up at the word 'pranking', and he looked at the boy with renewed interest. He was wearing a mischievous grin that looked about as innocent as a niffler in a Gringott's vault.

"As if I would!"

She laughed and made a rather half-hearted attempt to flatten his hair, before pushing him towards the train. "Get on with you."

Sirius grinned to himself as he dragged his trunk away from the pair and onto the train. The Potters were known to be traitorous mudblood-lovers and supporters of Dumbledore - exactly the kind of friends his mother would hate him to have. They were famous for being Gryffindors, and this one liked pranks as well. Sirius resolved to find the boy as soon as possible and make friends with him. He could think of all kinds of mischief they could get up to together.

He pulled his trunk along the corridor of the train, and peered into the nearest compartment. It only had one person in it – a small, rather chubby boy with a face of good-natured hopelessness and mousy-brown hair.

"Can I sit here?" Sirius asked, treating the boy to his most infectious grin.

The boy jumped a little and turned to the door. When he saw Sirius, he smiled shyly back. "Of course," he said. "It's just me in here."

Sirius sauntered in and shoved his trunk under his seat before sitting down and regarding the boy with interest.

"Are you a first year, too?" he asked.

The boy nodded. "Yes. I'm Peter Pettigrew."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sirius Black." Sirius held out his hand and the boy stared at it.

"As in  _the_ Blacks? My Dad told me all about you."

Sirius rolled his eyes, his hand still out. "We're not all the same, you know. I have no intention of being put into Slytherin."

"Really?" The boy looked amazed. "Why? Won't you get into trouble with your family?

"I don't really care," Sirius said airily.

The boy looked suitable impressed and reached out to shake his hand. They were interrupted from further conversation, however, by angry voices from the compartment opposite their own. Sirius pulled the door open again and stared out with interest. The door to the opposite compartment was open and inside Sirius could see a boy with greasy black hair and a big nose holding a book, but not reading, as he watched the compartment's other two occupants.

Sirius immediately recognised Potter from the station. He was standing over a skinny little boy with large amber eyes and tawny hair who appeared to be having a fit of some sort. His eyes were glassy and he was muttering "Stay back. Stay away, leave me, I don't need you. Stay until you have to come. Please, please…"

"You  _are_ crazy!" the Potter boy said, wearing an expression of great discomfort.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sirius asked, breaking the tense atmosphere.

All three boys turned to look at him. Potter scowled and pointed to the muttering boy with a furious finger. "He's completely mental!"

Sirius looked at the other boy who seemed to have snapped out of his trance and was now staring at him with those wide, disturbing eyes. Sirius couldn't deny that he did look a bit loopy. He also realised that this was his chance to befriend his fellow prankster.

"You can come sit in here if you like," he offered. "I'm Sirius Black. You  _have_ to be a Potter. I'd know the hair and glasses anywhere."

"Black?" asked Potter. "As in Moste Ancient – "

"and Noble House of Black blah blah rhubbarb and custard…yes." He pulled a face.

When Potter looked doubtful, Sirius gestured to Greasy-Git and Loopy. "Would you rather sit in there?"

Potter shrugged and picked up the end of his trunk again, dragging it across the corridor to Sirius and Peter's compartment. "I'm James Potter, by the way. You were right."

Sirius laughed and James chuckled as well, shutting the door behind him and shoving his trunk under the seat next to Peter.

"James Potter," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. Peter shook it.

"Peter Pettigrew."

"So what do you have against those two?" Sirius asked, jerking his thumb towards the other compartment.

James scowled towards the closed door. "My mother was trying to help that boy because he was alone at the station, and he just started laughing at her! The little git."

Sirius frowned. "The lad with the creepy eyes?"

"He's mental," James insisted.

"Well, I can't argue with that, mate. He did look a bit loopy."

James relaxed a little and gave him a smile.

"So, do you like playing pranks?" Sirius asked, subtlety never being one of his greatest strengths.

James' face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yeah! Do you?"

Sirius grinned. "I sneaked off when my mother took me to Diagon Alley and bought these."

He dragged his trunk out from under his seat and opened it to show the two other boys his secret stash of joke products from Zonko's London branch. James and Peter leant over the trunk, picking through dung bombs, exploding quills and trick parchment with delight.

"This is brilliant," James breathed. "My mother  _never_ lets me inside that shop. She says I'm enough trouble without the aid of commercially produced pranking products."

Sirius laughed. "My mother would hate me to have these as well." He felt a little of his excitement fade as he thought about her reaction if he was put into Gryffindor, but he was soon shaken from his musings by James who had discovered a bag of Tottenblow Togarts' Hair-Changing Toffees.

"Oh, the things I could do with stuff like this..."

"You're in luck," Sirius told him. "There's a massive Zonko's shop in Hogsmeade. We'll just have to find a way to sneak out of the school."

"Well there, mate, I might have an answer to your problems."

James yanked out his own trunk and dug around before pulling out a huge, silvery cape which he draped over his knees. They disappeared.

"Merlin's toenails," Peter whispered in awe, his attention diverted from Sirius' trunk.

"An invisibility cloak," Sirius breathed. "How on earth did you get hold of one of those?"

"My father gave it to me. Without telling my mother, of course. He said that if I was planning on getting up to mischief, I should at least make sure I wasn't caught."

"Brilliant!" Peter looked at James and Sirius with something close to hero-worship. "Are you really going to play pranks and things on people?"

"Oh yes," Sirius said enthusiasm bubbling like a cauldron in his belly. "We can start with that greasy-headed git that James here took a shine to."

Three heads bent together, bursts of laughter and delight drifting from their compartment and into Remus's where he sat staring silently out of the window while Snape read on the seat opposite. He felt a tug of longing so strong that it made his chest physically hurt. It was a particularly painful longing because he knew it would never be satisfied.


	5. Hallucinating Dead-Eyed Horses

_Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away,_

_Then he wriggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song._

_"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin,loony, loopy Lupin – "_

_Rude and unmanageable as he always was,_

_Peeves usually showed some respect towards teachers._

_Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this;_

_To their surprise, he was still smiling._

_(Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban – J.K. Rowling)_

**REMUS:**

It seemed like an age before the train finally arrived at Hogsmeade station. Snape had spent the whole journey with his nose buried in the DADA book and Remus hadn't dared to interrupt him. He didn't want his new friend to talk to him like he'd talked to Potter.

When they got off the train, it was dark and raining. Iron-grey clouds cloaked the sky above Hogsmeade, blocking out any view of the stars or the moon. Remus, however, didn't need to be able to see the moon to know what stage it was in. It tugged at the very marrow of his bones as it waxed and waned, the same way it tugged on the tides of the sea.

The first years huddled together in the rain while the older students all hurried towards carriages that waited for them outside the station. Remus nearly choked with fright when he saw the creatures that were pulling them, massive and black and skeletal against the Scottish sky. They didn't really look like horses, but it was the closest description Remus could get to them. One of them shook its great bat-like wings sending a spray of water into the air and then turned its head to stare at Remus with sightless white eyes.

With a yelp, he tried to back away, tripping over someone's foot and landing on someone else, bearing both of them to the ground. Raising himself up onto his elbows, Remus stared down into wide grey eyes, the exact colour of the clouds above them. To his dismay, he recognised Sirius Black. That meant –

"You again!"

Someone yanked him off Black by the back of his tatty robe and Remus struggled to his feet as Potter held out a hand to help Black up.

"What exactly is your problem?" Potter glared as Remus tried to wipe the mud off his robes and only succeeded in smearing it.

"I –I just…" Remus began.

"Leave it, I'm fine." Black glanced at Remus, then back at Potter. "It wasn't deliberate."

"No," Remus said, desperate to redeem himself. "It was those horrible horse things pulling the carriages. One  _looked_ at me."

"Horse things?" Black asked, turning to stare at the carriages, then back at Remus.

"Yes!"

"There's nothing there, mate."

"There is, there is," Remus said, desperately. "Can't you see them? They're skinny and black and they have all wings and white eyes!"

Now Black, Potter and the chubby mousy-haired boy were staring at him as though he were insane.

"I  _told_ you he was mental," Potter hissed.

"Firs' years!"

They were interrupted by the hugest man that Remus had ever seen. He towered over the group of sodden first years, looking down on them with beetling black eyes. His beard was wild and thick and he wore the biggest, bulkiest coat Remus had ever seen. Remus didn't even dare to back away or look surprised. He was beginning to wonder if he really was insane. Perhaps that was another symptom of being a Dark Creature that his father had not bothered to inform him about.

"Bloody hell!" Potter's voice was both awed and unashamedly loud. "That bloke is  _massive_!"

Remus breathed a sigh of relief and joined the rest of the first years in backing up a step.

"Don' be scared!" The giant man bellowed, "I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds a' Hogwarts. Firs' years have teh cross the lake to get to the school. Into the boats! C'mon! No more'n four to a boat!"

Remus looked around for Snape, hoping to share a boat with his new friend, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. He ran up and down the bank of the lake searching each of the boats until he spotted Snape, already sitting in a boat with three other students. Staring out at them, Remus felt betrayed and resigned at the same time. After all, if even his father didn't like him, why should a stranger he had only just met want to spend time with him? Snape didn't even notice his gaze, seeming intent on staring out over the lake.

"Lost your new friend? Maybe even greasy gits have some taste."

Remus swung round and found himself face to face again with Potter, Black and the chubby boy sitting in a boat nearby. Potter was smirking and the other two looked amused. Remus was glad he was so used to controlling his strong emotions. He kept his face entirely blank as he turned to glance at Snape again.

"C'mon! In yeh go. The boats're abou' to leave."

Before Remus could react, he felt a pair of massive hands grasp him under the armpits and lift him into the boat beside the chubby boy.

"Who said you could share a boat with us?" Potter demanded.

Remus couldn't bring himself to answer. He slouched down in his seat and tried to avoid their eyes as the boats began to move, seemingly of their own accord. Remus stared out over the rain-splattered lake as the other three leaned together and talked in low voices so he couldn't hear. When Hogwarts castle came into view, however, he caught his breath, his bad mood seeming to melt away. The castle and its grounds lay sprawled across the Scottish landscape, pointed turrets jutting towards the sky and golden-lit windows twinkling against the silhouetted walls. It looked like a fairy tale castle, shimmering and blurred round the edges because of the rain.

Hogwarts disappeared briefly as the boats carried them through a tunnel that led to a little underground harbor before it reappeared again in all its glory. Remus couldn't drag his eyes away from the castle as he clambered out of the boat, transfixed.

The biggest thing he could ever remember seeing before was the forest backing onto their house. He had been to London and Diagon alley, but he had seen that all in small sections – a shop at a time, divided up by the twisting street. The forest had been bigger, but the last time he had seen that he'd been six years old and caught up in the moonshadow magic with his mother. He had sensed the space around him, but had never really laid eyes on it as the trees had disappeared away into the blackness of the night.

Hogwarts was different. It gave the impression of grandeur and majesty and mystery and looming and loads of other big, impressive words that Remus knew from the books he had sneaked out of his father's study. The main doors alone were so huge that at least four Hagrids could have stood on one another's heads and still not had to have ducked to get through.

"Come along firs' years!" Hagrid shooed the huddle of students towards the Great Doors where a tall, black-haired witch dressed in formal robes and wearing a prim expression waited for them.

"I'm Professor McGonagall," she said, her expression stern. "If you will follow me, it's time for the Sorting."

The first years trailed after her and into the Great Hall. Remus' robe was second hand and too big for him, and being weighed down by rainwater seemed to make it droop even further onto the floor. As they entered the Great Hall he was so entranced by the sight that he tripped over the hem and staggered into the back of a girl with dripping red hair who swung around and grabbed his arm.

"Sorry," Remus muttered, mortified. Why couldn't he act normal like the others?  _Because you aren_ _'_ _t normal,_ a voice in his head pointed out.  _You_ _'_ _re a monster. You not_ _human._

"It's okay," she said kindly, peering at him through vivid green eyes. "Look at the ceiling!"

As she released his arm he tilted his head back and almost stumbled again. It was incredible! Storm clouds rolled fitfully above them, pouring with rain that disappeared before it was even halfway down the room. Candles floated like bright wax stars below the clouds, lighting the room with a golden glow.

"Come along first years!" Professor McGonagall said, hurrying the gaping students along to the front of the hall.

On a platform near the front, stood a three-legged stool with a tatty hat placed on it. As the first years lined up nervous and dripping before it, Remus sneaked a look out at the rest of the hall. There were four long tables crowded with students of varying ages. Above each of the table hung the banner of their house. A snake for Slytherin, an eagle for Ravenclaw, a badger for Hufflepuff and a lion for Gryffindor.

Remus felt himself begin to tremble with nervousness. He had  _never_ seen so many people in one place before. He remembered reading about the Sorting Hat in  _Hogwarts: A History_. Would he have to sit here in front of all these people and put it on? What if he fainted with fright?

"Bottlewurt, Bernard."

Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly echoed around the hall and the first boy in line stumbled up to the stool and jammed the hat on his head.

A slit in the hat's brim opened and a voice called out, "Ravenclaw!"

The table of Ravenclaws cheered as the boy hurried to join them, blushing furiously.

"Parkinson, Adora."

"Slytherin!"

"Smith, Jennifer."

"Hufflepuff!"

Remus felt his heart rate speed up as the line grew shorter.

"Potter, James."

He watched with a churning stomach as the boy sauntered up to the stool, appearing completely unafraid. He jammed the hat on his head and almost as soon as it had touched his messy locks, the word, "Gryffindor!" echoed around the room.

"Black, Sirius."

There was a stir from the Slytherin table as Black headed towards the stool and put the hat on his head. There was a long pause and Black's eyes were screwed shut as if he were thinking very, very hard. Eventually, the hat stirred and announced,

"Gryffindor!"

There were gasps from all corners of the room, and for a moment, Black just sat on the stool as though he couldn't believe what he had heard. Remus glanced towards the Slytherin table where many of its members were sending murderous glares towards the boy and then the Gryffindor table where they all seemed too shocked even to cheer.

Suddenly, a small, rather sodden figure with very messy hair rose at the Gryffindor table and climbed up onto his bench.

"Woohoo! Go Sirius!" Potter yelled, seeming completely self-assured and unembarrassed. "I knew you could do it, mate!"

As if this broke the spell, Black's face broke out into a triumphant grin and he sauntered over to the Gryffindor table, which had erupted into cheers while many of its occupants send rude gestures towards the Slytherins.

Remus felt something in his heart twist. It had been the way the Potter had stood up for his new friend and cheered, not caring what anyone else thought. Remus glanced towards Snape who was standing a few people in front of him. He was sneering in Potter's direction, having apparently forgotten all about Remus.

"Silence!" Professor McGonagall called. "The sooner the Sorting is over, the sooner you can eat."

The hall immediately grew quiet.

"Pettigrew, Peter."

There was a very long pause, then: "Gryffindor!"

Black and Potter cheered loudly as the chubby boy from the boat went to join them, beaming proudly.

There were a few more before, "Snape, Severus."

The hat had barely touched the boy's greasy hair before it announced, "Slytherin!"

Remus felt his heart sink. Where on earth was he going to be put? What if he wasn't put anywhere at all? What if he sat on there for hours and hours until the brim opened and called out, "Werewolf!" He felt his calm mask beginning to slip.

There was now only the red-haired girl in front of him.

"Evans, Lily!"

"Gryffindor!"

Lily smiled delightedly as she skipped towards the Gryffindor table and took a seat.

"Lupin, Remus!"

His heart tried to hammer itself out of his ribcage as he tentatively approached the stool. He tripped over the edge of his hem again, staggering a little as sniggers rose from the students.

He sat down feeling utterly miserable and pulled the hat down over his head.

"Well, well," a voice said in his head. "A little wolf. That's very unusual."

 _I'_ _m sorry!_ Remus thought desperately,  _Please don_ _'_ _t tell anyone!_

"I'm only here to Sort you," the voice said, sounding calm and unflustered. "Now where to put you?"

 _Hufflepuff!_ Remus begged silently.

"Hufflepuff?" The Sorting Hat sounded amused. "No I don't think Hufflepuff suits you at all. Nor does Slytherin. You don't have slyness needed to fit into the snake house. And the prejudice you will encounter there would not do at all. Ravenclaw – well. It's a possibility, but still not quite right. Let's see. You are brave. You are kind and loyal, though you haven't been given the opportunity to see this yet. And plenty of courage. I can see that. It took plenty of courage for you just to come here. Yes, I think you will do well in Gryffindor."

 _Not Gryffindor,_ Remus thought, his heart sinking.  _Not with them!_

"Trust me," the hat whispered, then, "Gryffindor!" it announced aloud, and Remus felt his heart plummet and settle in his stomach where it thumped and ached painfully.

He pulled the hat off his head and stumbled towards the Gryffindor table, completely unaware of the applause from his new house. Sliding into the chair at the first year's end of the table, he saw Potter, Black and Pettigrew staring at him in shock.

"It put you in Gryffindor?" said Black incredulously.

"But you're loopy!" Pettigrew agreed.

Potter said nothing. He scowled at his empty plate, ignoring Remus. As the last of the students were sorted, Remus also stared down at the polished wood of the table. He was using every ounce of his acting skills to keep his face looking calm and neutral when all he wanted to do was cry.


	6. Birthing Friendships and Vendettas

_The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand,_

_nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship;_

_it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one_

_when he discovers that someone else believes in him_

_and is willing to trust him with friendship._

_-Ralph Waldo Emerson_

**SIRIUS:**

It was the happiest moment in Sirius' life when James Potter stood tall on the Gryffindor bench and cheered for him. Sirius had begged the Sorting Hat to put him into Gryffindor, but as the words had emitted from that slit in the brim and he had seen the hate-filled glares from the Slytherin table, and the shocked, silent Gryffindors he suddenly wondered if he'd made the most terrible mistake.

He'd considered standing up and screaming; "It's all a mistake! I should be in Slytherin!" but found himself entirely unable to move a muscle in the awful silence that had filled the hall following the initial rush of gasps and whispers.

Then James Potter had climbed up onto the bench and his young voice had echoed through the hall. "Woohoo! Go Sirius! I knew you could do it mate!"

And suddenly it wasn't a mistake at all. It was a  _brave_  and  _brilliant_ _,_ and James, who had not even known him a full day, had stood up for him –literally – in spite of the fact that it might have meant them both being ostracised by the whole school. It was the most wonderful thing anyone had ever done for Sirius without wanting anything in return. It had been a noble, impulsive, thick-headed and completely Gryffindor gesture of friendship. And it was something that Sirius would have done himself, had he been in the same position.

Grinning and feeling light-headed with happiness as the Gryffindor table seemed to erupt with cheers and sneers (aimed at the Slytherins), Sirius headed over to James. When he sat down, James hammered him delightedly on his back.

"Good thing too," the messy-haired boy said, grinning. "I would have been awful to go to all that trouble of making a friend only to have him turn into a bloody Slytherin."

"All that trouble?" Sirius asked, raising a mocking eyebrow. "I'll have you know you should be honoured to be friends to the heir of the Moste Ancient and Noble Family Black."

"More like the soon-to-be-exiled-heir of the Moste Awful and Nauseating Family Black," James said. He ducked Sirius's punch as the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers again and they saw Peter Pettigrew heading towards their table.

"Way to go, mate," Sirius said to him. "I knew you couldn't  _really_ be that wet."

James awarded Peter the same delighted back-pounding treatment he had inflicted on Sirius, making the plump boy's nose hit the table rather painfully, but still failing to wipe the proud grin off his face.

"This is brilliant," James said, eyes shining. "We'll be the most famous pranksters of the school,  _ever_! We'll be put in  _Hogwarts: A History_  and bards will write songs about us. We'll have some type of brilliant sweet named after us! We'll – "

"Hey," Sirius interrupted. "Look, it's Greasy Git from the train."

James broke off his heroic ramble to focus on the Sorting again. Sure enough, the boy with the greasy hair and big nose was seated on the stool and the hat was just opening its brim to announce, "Slytherin!"

"Like that's surprising," Sirius said, making a face.

They watched as the smirking boy headed towards the Slytherin table.

"Severus Snape." Peter put in. "Even his name sounds Slytheriny."

"More like Snivellus Snape," Sirius said, and the three of them sniggered.

"Evans, Lily." Professor McGonagall called from the front of the hall.

Sirius began to snigger even harder. "Look, James. It's your future wife."

"What?"

"I know you Potters always go for redheads. You're famous for it. It's how I recognised you on the station - your mother had red hair. That and yours looked like a bird's nest."

"She's  _not_  my future wife," James said indignantly, staring at the girl as the hat placed her in Gryffindor and she headed towards their table.

"Yeah, right," Sirius grinned. "And I come from a family of Muggles, and you always look neat and tidy and Dumbledore is really troll wearing a very well-placed false beard and big robe and… and…" he looked round for further inspiration. "And that crazy kid from the train is gonna be placed in Gryffindor."

"I am  _not_  going to marry Evans," James said, blushing scarlet.

"Huh! See!" Sirius pointed a triumphant finger. "You even remember her name. I bet you ten chocolate frogs and a dungbomb you end up marrying her."

"Hey guys, look who it is," Peter interrupted.

James and Sirius turned back to the Sorting again just as McGonagall read out "Lupin, Remus."

" _Lupin?_ " James said, "Well, that fits. Loopy Lupin."

The boy staggered over his overly-large and tatty robe on his way to the stool and the hall filled with titters. Lupin flushed scarlet as he dropped down onto the stool and Sirius saw his wide, amber eyes sweeping the room to land on their little group before he pulled the hat down on his head and screwed up his face. He sat still for a long time, his hands flexing into fists on his lap. Sirius suddenly wondered if this boy was arguing with the Sorting Hat as he had done.

Eventually, after a long breathless wait by those in the hall, the slit opened and the hat announced, "Gryffindor!"

The three of them froze with shock.

" _What?_ " James demanded.

"He's in  _Gryffindor_?"

For a moment, Sirius thought that perhaps Lupin had argued his way into Gryffindor just as he had done. The boy was heading towards their table, his face completely blank of any expression, but his gaze flicked to Sirius for a second and Sirius saw something distraught in his eyes. Had he been trying to argue his way  _out_? Sirius couldn't imagine it. But how could the boy have been meant for Gryffindor?

"It put you in Gryffindor?" Sirius demanded as he sat down. Lupin didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the table next to his plate.

"But you're loopy," Peter said.

The boy didn't move or meet their eyes.

"Well done, Remus!"

Sirius, James and Peter turned to where Lily Evans was sitting a few places away. Lupin twitched a little and looked warily at her, as though afraid she would burst out laughing. Sirius exchanged a look with James who rolled his eyes and made a circular hand gesture by his head to indicate his view on Lupin's sanity.

"Thanks," Remus said quietly to Lily, a little too late too late to be normal. She ginned at him and his lips tilted up at the corners as if his own mouth was trying to smile, but didn't really know how. In spite of this, however, Sirius noticed that Remus's eyes filled with something like happiness. No, not happiness - it was closer to relief; as though someone had threatened him with being tortured to death, but had changed their mind and offered to cut off his head quickly instead. Then the eyes dropped back to Lupin's plate as the Sorting continued, and James poked Sirius in the side.

"You don't think he'll be in our dorm, do you?" he whispered, glaring at Lupin.

"Probably," Sirius answered. "It isn't a big year, so there're only a few boys in each House. I dunno about Gryffindor, but I heard in Slytherin there's usually two or four people to a dorm. How many of us are in Gryffindor? Six? Us three, Lupin, that Longbottom kid and Michael Douglas over there. If the three of us want to stay together, I guess we'll have to have a four-bed dorm."

"Well, I hope we end up with one of the other two," Peter said. "Longbottom doesn't look too bad."

"Shh!" Evans hissed. "Look, the Sorting's finished."

They turned their attention to the front where Dumbledore was getting to his feet. Sirius had heard a lot about Dumbledore from his parents. 'A Muggle-loving fool' they said, and 'losing his marbles'. Sirius's mother insisted that they only kept Dumbledore on at Hogwarts as a favour to him for defeating Grindelwald all those years ago.

Sirius couldn't deny that the man did look a little eccentric, dressed as he was in a violently purple robe with glittering silver patterns. But he also seemed to exude an aura of power and wisdom. His twinkling blue eyes behind their half moon glasses swept over the hall, taking in the new students. They settled briefly on Sirius and his smile seemed to widen behind his long, white beard.

"Welcome to all our new students!" he said, with a sweeping gesture that took in the whole Hall. "You will be with us for seven years at Hogwarts and I hope you find them to be both educational and enjoyable. Just a few announcements before we sit down to our lovely feast. The Forbidden Forest at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds is - just as its name suggests - forbidden. To all students. Mr Filch had got a new list of forbidden items hanging on his office door which you would do well to familiarise yourself with including, I believe, strangling skipping robes, dungbombs and green gobbler balls - an ingenious invention that nevertheless caused our poor Mr. Filch a great deal of trouble last year. This year, we are also privileged to have a rare new tree planted on the grounds of Hogwarts called the Whomping Willow. I must ask each and every one of you to stay away from this tree. It is dangerous and could seriously injure or even kill anyone who gets too near to it. Anyone found to be approaching this tree will be severely punished. And now, in response to all those rumbling stomachs, let's eat!"

The tables in front of them were suddenly groaning under the weight of massive amounts of food. Sirius felt his eyes widen in spite of himself. There was everything here: roast turkey, potatoes, beef stew, vegetables, rice, steak and kidney pudding and large boiled hams. He even thought he spotted a tray of chocolate éclairs a little way down the table.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a hippogriff," Peter announced, launching in and beginning to fill his plate.

Sirius and James laughed as they attacked the food as well. "I know what you mean, mate," James said, his mouth full of turkey.

By the time the meal was over, Sirius doubted that he could make it up to the dorms, he was so full. He sat back on his bench and noticed that Professor McGonagall was approaching their table.

"Mr. Lupin?" she said, causing the boy to jump violently and raise his eyes from his barely filled plate.

"The Headmaster would like to see you in his office. If you will follow me?"

Lupin looked unsurprised but very nervous as he scrambled up from the table and followed the professor towards the main doors.

"What do you think that's about?" Sirius asked.

"Probably needs to tell Loopy Lupin to take his potions so he doesn't completely lose it," James said, smirking.

Peter laughed, but Sirius just frowned in thought as he stared after the boy.

"Settle down, ladies and gentlemen," Dumbledore said from the front of the room. "First years will follow the prefects to their dorms. Once there, they will give you the passwords into your House common rooms. Off you go!"

Sirius clambered out of his seat and hurried with James and Peter towards the dark-haired prefect who stood at the end of their table.

"I'm Charlotte," she said, smiling down at the first years. "Follow me, please and don't wonder off. The castle is very big and it's easy to get lost."

They trailed after her through a maze of corridors, up and down moving staircases and through random tapestries. Sirius wondered if he would ever begin to know his way around the castle. Did they send out search parties for first years who went missing?

"I wonder if there are secret passages," James whispered, as they made their way up the final staircase to the Gryffindor tower.

Sirius was certain that there probably were, but had the feeling they should probably focus on the non-secret ones before tackling any others.

When they finally stopped, they found themselves facing the portrait of a very fat lady in a pink dress.

"You need to give the Fat Lady the password in order to get into the common room," Charlotte told them. "Right now it's  _mugwort_."

The portrait swung open and the first years followed Charlotte through the portrait hole. The common room was amazing: decorated in crimson and gold, filled with squashy sofas and armchairs and lined with tables and chairs around the walls. There was a huge fireplace roaring at one end of the room, and two staircases leading up to the dorms at the other.

"Boy's dorms up that way," Charlotte said, pointing up one staircase. "If you follow Simon here, he'll show you the way. Girls, you come with me."

The boys followed the new prefect up the stairs.

"Let's see," Simon said, reading off a piece of parchment in his hand, "Longbottom and Douglas in here," he pointed at one door, "and the rest of you in here."

He looked down at them and frowned. "We're missing one. Where'd he go? We didn't lose him already, did we?"

"He's talking to the headmaster," Sirius told him.

The three of them trailed into the dormitory. James was scowling. "I can't believe we have to share a room with Loopy Lupin for  _seven years_."

"I know," Sirius said. "But it doesn't mean we have to be friends with him."

"Good, 'cause I'm not going to."

They found their trunks were already in place at the ends of their beds, and Sirius flopped onto his, exhausted. "I'm so tired," he yawned. "I could just go to sleep right now."

"Me too," Peter said from his bed, "and I think I must have picked up a stomach bug from somewhere because I feel a bit sick."

"And it had nothing to do with the fact you managed to polish off three steak and kidney puddings, five roast potatoes, a bowl of stew, a plate of carrots and an entire platter of turkey?" James asked.

Sirius laughed. "It's a good thing the food disappeared when it did. Otherwise you would have popped and they would have been scraping bits of you off the wall for months."

"It's a stomach bug," Peter protested. "I'm probably dying of some awful disease and all you can do is make fun of me. What if the Slytherins tried to poison me?"

"Did you see how happy Snivellus was to be in Slytherin?" Sirius asked, making a face. "As if anyone would actually  _choose_ to be there."

James shuddered. "Imagine having to share a dorm with him and that  _hair_."

"Maybe it would look better in green. You know. To go with the slime." Sirius grinned suddenly, opening his trunk and digging through it. "I think one of my Tottenblow Hair-Changing Toffees does that."

James and Peter hurried over to join Sirius in rooting through his trunk, all lethal stomach illnesses forgotten.

It was a while afterwards, when the floor was littered with joke products, scattered clothes and pieces of parchment, that the door opened and they turned to see Lupin standing there. He blinked at them uncertainly, then crept over to his bed. His trunk, Sirius noticed, was scratched and weathered and looked about a hundred years old.

"Don't think just because you're in here with us we're going to be your friends, Loopy," James said, frowning at the boy. "Where were you?"

"I-I was with the headmaster," the boy said, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring down as his hands. "My m-mother is ill, so I have to leave for a few days s-sometimes to go and s-see her. We were just sorting out the d-details."

"Oh." James began to look a little guilty and Sirius couldn't help noticing how small Lupin looked, hunched on the edge of his bed. Even though his robe was several sizes too big for him, Sirius could see he was very thin underneath. Lupin stood up opened his trunk, pulling out a pair of pyjamas and heading to the bathroom. The door clicked behind him.

"Maybe you should lay off him a bit?" Sirius suggested quietly. "We don't have to be friends with him, but he can't help being crazy. Let's just leave him alone."

James looked uncomfortable. "He laughed at my mother, though."

"He is insane. Merlin only knows why he was laughing."

James sighed. "Fine. I'll lay off him. As long as we don't have to be friends with him."

They ignored Lupin as he crept back into the room dressed in long pyjamas. He crawled into bed and closed his curtains around him.

Sirius yawned himself. "I might turn in as well," he said. "Classes start tomorrow and I'm absolutely beat."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, and he and James helped Sirius stuff most of the mess back into his trunk.

That night, Sirius dreamed his mother turned into a banshee and screamed at his window until James and Peter's heads exploded and bits of steak and kidney pudding flew everywhere. Lupin laughed until Sirius shook him hard by the shoulders over and over again before realising the smaller boy wasn't actually laughing, but crying, and that his tears were made of blood.


	7. Gather That Magic

_"I wish that I could share myself, not just some disguise that takes the place of the me within, hiding from your eyes!" (Peter Rosen)_

**REMUS:**

Remus woke up very early on the first day of school so that he could be in and out of the shower before his dorm mates stirred. He definitely didn't want any of them seeing his scarred and battered body.

He dug around in his trunk as quietly as possible for his clothes and toiletries and slipped out from between his curtains. His excitement at being in Hogwarts, instead of wearing off, only grew when he crept into the bathroom. The room was massive – bigger than the whole of the Lupins' cottage all by itself. It was a glittering sight of grey stone, white marble and gleaming metalwork.

Remus went to one of the shower cubicles and pulled the curtain across. He undressed, hanging his pyjamas on a hook in the wall with his uniform, then stepped into the shower and reached for the tap.

The pain was sudden and excruciating, and he recognised it straight away - the taps were made of silver. He stared down at his hand which, even with such brief contact, was raw-looking and blistered. He was so  _stupid_. Why hadn't he been paying attention? A lapse like that in company could lead to his secret being discovered. He could only be thankful that the cutlery they had used last night had obviously been stainless steel.

He picked up his washcloth gingerly in his unhurt hand and used it to turn the taps on. Water streamed out, warm and comforting and Remus washed clumsily, trying to ignore the stinging of the burn. He dressed as fast as he could, heading back the dormitory just as Potter was making his way towards the bathroom looking scruffy and sleep-fogged. He sneered half-heartedly at Remus as he passed.

Remus sighed and went to his bed, packing away his pyjamas and rooting around for his healing potions in his trunk. He pulled out one that would help to sooth his silver burn and unscrewed the lid with difficulty. It was already half-empty. After hearing about his Hogwarts letter his father had been even more liberal with his punishments than usual and Remus's body was still mottled with little round healing burns where John Lupin had pressed a silver spoon to his skin.

That was another good thing about being at Hogwarts, he thought, as he began to rub the lotion onto his palm and fingers. Even if he had no friends, he doubted that anyone would hurt him in the way that his father did. Even the prospect of being beaten up was preferable to the intense burn of silver on his flesh.

"What did you do to your hand?"

Remus jumped at the voice and glanced up to see Sirius Black standing near the end of his bed, watching Remus with a curious expression.

"I…er…I burnt it. The water. It was hot."

_Stupid, stupid. When will you learn to think? You let him see…_

"Oh."

There was a long silence and Black opened his mouth as though he were about to speak again, but the bathroom door opened and Potter sauntered out.

"Morning!" he said, spotting Black and looking much more cheerful after his shower. "Go have a shower. The water's hot, but I've heard it gets used up quickly."

Remus saw Black's grey eyes flick once more to the burn on his hand, which he closed into a fist in spite of the pain it caused. The bigger boy shrugged and turned to Potter with a scowl.

"Must you be so disgustingly cheerful this early in the morning?" he complained. "It's unseemly."

Potter laughed, unfazed. "You sound like my mother. If you hurry up I'll wait for you and we can head to breakfast together."

Sirius groaned and wrinkled his nose. "Fine. Wake Peter, will you? He hasn't even stirred yet."

Remus packed his things away, making sure his trunk was locked before slipping out of the room unnoticed by the other boys.

The Great Hall was buzzing with new-term chatter when he arrived. Remus slid onto the bench at the end of the Gryffindor table and eyed the breakfast food with misgiving. The cutlery and dinner plates may be made of stainless steel, but the platters the food was served on were definitely silver. He could feel the heat against his hand when he waved it a couple of inches away from the nearest plate of sausages.

He wondered how he had missed it last night, then remembered that he'd been rather upset at the time. He could only be thankful that he had somehow managed to avoid touching the plates when he had dished up his food.

He glanced down the table at his fellow Gryffindors. Even the ones who looked as happy about being up as Black had, seemed to be eating enough food to floor an army. Remus felt sick thinking about eating that much. His father had never allowed him more than a slice of toast for breakfast. He leaned over and slid a piece carefully out of the silver toast rack in front of him and began to butter it.

"Remus Lupin?"

He glanced up to see Charlotte, the sixth-year Gryffindor prefect looking down at him.

"Yes?"

"Your timetable."

She handed him a piece of parchment and moved on to the red-haired Lily Evans. He stared down at it, heart hammering. Finally he'd be learning magic for real. He couldn't wait to be able to wave his wand at something and to have what he wished to come true. He wondered what his mother would have said if she could see him now, sitting here at the Gryffindor table like a real human person.

Breakfast was almost over by the time his dorm-mates made an appearance. Potter bounced in looking happy and wild-haired, followed by Pettigrew who stared around the hall in daylight for the first time with great interest, and Black who looked like the only thing that interested him at that moment was getting back into bed.

As soon as he spotted them, Remus stood up from the table. He really didn't want a run in with them this early in the morning on their first day of school.

He was out of luck however, because as soon as Potter saw him, his cheerful face twisted into a scowl and he glared at Remus. "What are you looking at, Loopy?"

Remus winced at the nickname and backed away a little.

"James…" Black said sleepily, "let's just get something to eat, I'm starving!"

Potter glanced back at his friend, then shrugged and headed to the table, apparently forgetting about Remus who took advantage of this and escaped with relief. He spotted the prefect Charlotte again, talking to a second-year by the doors to the Great Hall and hesitantly approached.

"Could you tell me the way to Charms, please?" he asked her.

"Of course."

Remus was the first to appear outside the Charms classroom that morning, and he stood, hunched against the wall as he waited for others to arrive. When at last they were allowed in, he retreated as far away from Potter and his friends as possible and found himself seated near the middle of the class with Frank Longbottom.

Their teacher was a tiny little wizard called Professor Flitwick, who smiled at all of them and clapped his hands for attention.

"Today," he squeaked, "we're learning the levitation charm.  _Wingardium Leviosa_."

He demonstrated the accompanying hand movement with his wand and a pinecone rose out of the basket on his desk and floated into the air. The students muttered their approval, clutching their wands and ready to try on their own.

At the Professor's nod, the class got to work. Remus' left hand hurt as he held his wand, but he found he didn't care. The thought that he would be able to do this charm made him almost dizzy with anticipation.

 _And if you can do it well,_ said a voice inside him that he always referred to as his Inner Marauder,  _maybe you can do it really quickly and violently to Potter's trousers to give him a wedgie. That would certainly be entertaining._

He tried to ignore the voice. As the name suggested, it had a tendency to comandeer his good sense and get him into trouble - something that had earned him hundreds of silver-burns from his father over the years.

"Are you okay?" Frank asked, looking at Remus with concern. Remus blinked and glanced at him.

"Um…yes."

"Only, you've had your wand up and your mouth open for ages and haven't said anything. I thought you might be ill."

"Er…uh, no." Remus felt himself flush a little.

"He can't help it. He's mental," Black put in, as he headed to the front of the classroom for another pinecone. Pettigrew had managed to burn both of theirs to cinders by jabbing them viciously with his wand.

Remus scowled at him and Black raised an eyebrow. "What, you're denying it?"

"Leave him alone, Black," Longbottom chimed in. "Even if he is crazy, it's none of your business."

"You try saying that when you have to share a room with him for seven years."

"Oh, bugger off," Longbottom said, raising his wand. "Look, I think Pettigrew's burnt a hole in your book bag."

Black swung round to see Pettigrew standing at their desk guiltily, surrounded by a cloud of black smoke.

"Pete!" he yelled. "I told you not to do anything until I got back. James, why didn't you watch him?"

"What am I - his mother?" Potter just looked rather amused by the whole situation.

Black headed to the front desk, grabbed a couple of pinecones and raced back to his seat to avert any further disasters.

"So  _are_  you crazy?" Frank asked Remus with great interest. "I've never met anyone crazy before."

"Er…" Remus was too thrown off by the fact that Frank didn't look too bothered by his apparent mental instability to be able to think up a suitable answer. "I was…er… just…g-gathering my magic together," he said in a moment of inspiration.

"Really?" Frank sounded doubtful. "That works, does it?"

Remus glanced at his pinecone and turned his mind back both to the demonstration and to the Charms book he had read avidly over the summer in the three weeks he was locked in his dungeon bedroom. If there was one thing Remus  _did_ have going for him, it was a love of books and a brilliant memory.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

His pinecone shifted, then rose shakily into the air, growing steadier as Remus gained confidence until it bobbed and hovered above their heads.

"Brilliant!" Frank said. "Can you teach me to gather my magic together?"


	8. Hidden Scars

_The scars of others should teach us caution_

_(St. Jerome)_

**SIRIUS:**

"I wonder what's wrong with him?" James said musingly as the three of them lounged in front of the common room fire that evening.

"Who?" Sirius picked up a piece of coal off hearthrug he was lying on and flicking it into the fire.

"Loopy, of course."

Raising his head, Sirius followed James' line of sight. Lupin was sitting alone at a table near the back of the common room, poring over his Transfiguration book, quill and parchment beside him.

"He looks okay to me," Sirius said, ready to flop back to the floor again.

"And me," Peter put in, from where he was curled up in a little ball on the armchair opposite James' sofa.

"I mean, I wonder why he can't seem to keep a friend," James explained. "We saw him sitting with Snivellus on the train and Snivellus wouldn't even look at him when we got onto the boats. Then I thought that maybe him and Longbottom were going to hit it off in Charms, 'cause I actually saw him  _smile_ for a bit there, but Longbottom wandered off with Michael Douglas again at lunch and Lupin was sitting on his own again."

Sirius tilted his head towards his friend. "You have been watching him disturbingly closely."

"There's something off about him."

"All this because you think he may have laughed at your Mum?" Peter asked, bemused.

" _No._ " James glared at Peter. "I told you – I feel like there's something off about him, and if I have to share a room with him for the next seven years, I want to know what it is."

"Well, Snivellus isn't exactly friendly," Sirius pointed out. "Maybe all they did was sit in silence reading the whole way on the train."

"Well, that would still give them a common book-worm bond," James said, his expression stubborn. "And Loopy obviously thought so too. You both saw him running round looking for him when we were getting on the boats. He looked totally gutted when he saw Snivellus sitting with those other students."

"Well, it wouldn't have worked anyway," Peter said. "Snivellus got put into the snake pit where he belongs and we got stuck with Loopy."

"That's not the point," said James. "Even  _Snape_ – who no one likes – turned him down as a friend. And what about Longbottom?"

Sirius realised he wasn't going to be hearing the end of this any time soon and sighed. "Hey! Longbottom!" he yelled to their year-mate, who was playing exploding snap with Douglas on the floor near the portrait entrance.

Longbottom looked over to Sirius. "What?"

"Come here a second."

Longbottom looked reluctant so Sirius rolled over onto his stomach and made pleading eyes at him. "We're not planning anything - honest!"

Longbottom still looked dubious, but he approached the three friends. Sirius couldn't really blame him seeing as he had already had twenty points taken off Gryffindor for dropping a dung bomb into Parkinson's cauldron earlier that day in Potions.

"Well?" he asked, standing over Sirius and looking impatient.

"You 'n Lupin seemed to be getting on rather well in Charms earlier."

Longbottom looked bemused. "Yeah, so?"

"How come you aren't friends with him?" Peter asked. "Did he do something to you?"

"What?" Longbottom stared at them, forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What d'you mean 'do something'?"

"Well, you're obviously not friends with him, so we were wondering." Sirius waved vaguely in Lupin's direction. Lupin was looking up at them suspiciously, though Sirius knew he couldn't have heard what they were saying over the chatter of the other students.

"Just because we chatted in Charms doesn't mean we suddenly became best friends," Frank said. "He didn't do anything wrong. He's a nice lad." He looked around at them in irritation. "If you're so worried about him, why don't you invite him into your little gang?"

He turned and stalked back to his game of exploding snap again.

"See," Sirius said smugly to James, "nothing weird at all."

James didn't look convinced. "You've gotta admit there's something off about him at least."

Sirius sighed and looked back at Lupin who was leaning over his parchment again, his longish, tawny hair shielding his eyes. His cheeks looked a little flushed.

"Not off, exactly," Sirius said. "I'll admit there's something weird about him, but not really  _off_." He hesitated, unsure of whether to divulge what he had seen that morning.

"What?" demanded James, who already knew Sirius far too well for his peace of mind.

"This morning he burnt his hand in the shower. I saw him putting burn lotion on it."

"So?"

"Well, it was a huge pot of lotion and it was nearly finished." Sirius glanced quickly at Lupin again, then back into James' hazel eyes. He lowered his voice. "He'd slid his sleeve back a bit to put the lotion on and I saw scars on his wrist."

"Scars?" James frowned, a flash of worry flittering across his face.

"Yeah. I didn't get a proper look, cos when he noticed me he jumped and the sleeve fell back, but there were scars. A round shiny one like a burn, and then some others like slashes."

There was silence for a moment as James and Peter digested this information.

"How d'you reckon he got them?" Peter asked nervously.

Sirius shrugged. But he was thinking about his mother and the day she hit him across the face with the back of her hand. He remembered her ring cutting into his cheek, and the utter shock and horror he'd felt as he hit the floor. He wondered if there were parents out there who didn't rely on house-elves to administer punishments. He wondered if there were parents out there who didn't stop at hidings and three-day stints in the kitchen cellar.

He looked up at James again and saw a guilty flush in the other boy's cheeks.

"He's still weird," he said.

"We don't have to be friends with him," Sirius assured him, repeating what he'd said the night before. "He is completely mental. But maybe it's for a good reason."

He watched as James shot Lupin another look. More assessing now than sneering. The tawny-haired boy had hunched so far into his corner of the common room that he almost seemed to be trying to melt into his desk.

"Fine," James said. "We won't be mean to him anymore. We'll be polite. But I'm not being friends with him."

Sirius couldn't explain afterwards why he felt so relieved at these words. After all, why should he care what happened to Lupin?

The sight of that scarred little wrist seemed burnt into the back of his head.


	9. First Lie, First Moon

_"Life without a friend is death without a witness."_

_(Spanish Proverb)_

**REMUS:**

Remus was physically shaking as he lay in bed that night behind his closed curtains. He listened to the others coming in and getting ready for bed. They bickered and tousled and Black and Potter had an impromptu pillow fight, but they seemed to be keeping their voices as quiet as hyped-up eleven-year-old boys are able to. He wondered if this was because they thought he was asleep. Was this their attempt at 'being polite'?

Remus's mind drifted again to the conversation he'd overheard between the boys earlier that evening. There may have been a lot of other noise in the common room, but his sensitive werewolf hearing had picked up every word.

He wasn't sure what he felt. It had started out as hurt and bitterness as the boys had discussed his inability to make friends. He'd wanted to run away or shut them up, while at the same time being desperate to hear more about what he was doing wrong when it came to getting people to like him. Frank had said he was a 'nice lad' but that he didn't want to be his best friend. Why was that? What could he have done to make Frank want to be his friend and not just someone who was fun to chat to in Charms?

Then Sirius had told them about his scars and he had gone from feeling humiliated, hurt and confused to utterly bowel-clenchingly terrified. He'd been paralysed in his seat as he felt their eyes rake over him.

Remus wished he knew what they thought about his scars. Did they have any suspicions as to how he got them? Did they think it was because he was a werewolf? No, not that. Scared as he was, he knew they had no reason to suspect that. There hadn't even been a full moon yet. At this thought, his heart seemed to slow a little and his shaking gradually subsided.

So what did they think? Did they suspect it was his father? They wouldn't be far off the mark. Many of the scars were his father's doing, not the wolf's. Or did they think he did it to himself? Was that what Sirius meant when he said he thought Remus was 'completely mental'? Was that why they were laying off him? Because they were afraid they would drive him all the way to the edge so he would finish it and die?

No matter how miserable Remus had been in his life, he had never contemplated killing himself. He didn't know if it was the wolf's natural instinct for survival, or whether it was something inside his human self. Was it the Inner Marauder that, through all his hurts and pains, remained in the back of his mind snickering at life's little absurdities and thinking up new plans for mischief?

The lights flickered out and the others whispered to one another for a while before settling down. His acute hearing picked up the sounds of their steady breaths clearly. He didn't feel tired at all. He shifted and rolled onto his stomach, hoping that would be more comfortable.

_"…There were scars. A round shiny one like a burn, and then some others like slashes."_

He rolled onto his side and stared out into the darkness.

_"…You've gotta admit there's something off about him at least..."_

He kicked off his blankets, feeling hot, then pulled them back again in case one of the others looked in at him for some reason. If his pyjamas were tugged up in his sleep, who knew what else they would see?

_"We won't be mean to him anymore. We'll be polite. But I'm not being friends with him."_

It was only into the early hours of the morning that Remus finally managed to drift off into restless sleep.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Over the next week, Remus began to fall into a routine of sorts. Potter's gang kept to their word. They mostly ignored him, but if they did need to talk to him they were polite and distant. Sometimes, Remus's senses would kick in and he would stiffen, knowing that one of them was staring at him, and he would silently beg them to look away. Sharing a room with the boys, he began to recognise their scents as well, and he knew that, though Potter and Pettigrew did their fair share of staring, it was mainly Black. He felt those clear grey eyes burning into the back of his neck and wished fervently that mind-reading was part of the werewolf package.

Remus kept away from them as much as he could. In lessons he tried to sit next to Frank as often as he could, and Frank didn't seem to mind, though he never made overtures of closer friendship. He and Michael Douglas had become good mates and seemed to prefer going off on their own. Sometimes, Remus wondered if it was only to get back at Potter's gang for their interrogation that Frank allowed him to sit beside him in most lessons.

Potter, Black and Pettigrew still called him 'Loopy', but it wasn't said in the same sneering tones as before. It was almost like calling a red-head 'Ginger'. A nickname for an obvious characteristic. Remus tried not to mind. He knew he seemed odd, especially when he muttered aloud to the wolf as it stirred in him, but it was the only way he'd found to calm it.

In between lessons, Remus would retreat to the library to do his work. He found that he was happiest there among the books, learning all the wonderful things that his father had told him he would never be available to an animal like him. He would sometimes see a blurry image of his mother in his mind's eye, sprawled out on the floor in the cottage's living room, completely engrossed in a potions book, her tawny eyebrows knitted together and her long hair pooled around her on the floor.

He didn't know where the image came from, or even if it was real, but he found that if he sat on the floor and read a book that intrigued him, he felt closer to his mother than he had in years. It was a wonderful feeling, this closeness, mixed in with defiance for his father.

The other students looked at him oddly when he sat on the floor. There were tables and chairs all round the library and they obviously couldn't understand why he didn't use them. Sometimes, the librarian, Madame Pince – a young woman with a face that screwed up as though she were sucking a lemon every time a student dared to enter her domain – would try to shoe him to a table, but after a few days, gave up and seemed accept his presence as long as he stayed clear of the aisles.

The full moon was approaching rapidly, and Remus felt sick with a mixture of worry and the effects of his curse. On the night of the full moon, he sat at the end of the Gryffindor table, his heightened senses seeming to pick us the burning presence of the silver platters even from a distance and his stomach rolling at the thought of food.

After a while, he stood up and retreated back to the Gryffindor Tower where he dug around in his chest to pull out his outdoor cloak and shrugged it on. He was just turning to head towards the infirmary when he saw Black standing in the doorway of the dorm, looking at him.

"Where are you going? It's almost curfew."

Remus looked down, twisting his hands. "I'm going to see my mother for a few days. She's not well."

"You look ill."

"I'm worried."  _Not a lie._

Black looked uncertain, frowning and chewing his lower lip as though he wanted to say something but didn't know how. Eventually he cleared his throat and said, "I er… hope she gets better."

"She won't."

"Oh."

The silence became unbearable and Remus slipped past Black and out of the door. He hurried downstairs and out of the portrait hole.

Madame Pomfrey gave him a worried look when he arrived at the hospital wing. "You don't look very well, dear."

"I always look like this before the transformation," Remus told her. He could see that she was anxious about taking care of him and felt a guilty twinge in his chest. "It's okay, you know. I usually take care of myself unless it's really bad and I can't reach."

"Of course you won't have to do that," she admonished gently. "I'll take care of you. I'll come and get you in the morning."

They set off out of the castle, heading towards the Whomping Willow and Madame Pomfrey picked up a long stick on the way.

"You just press this knot in the trunk here and the branches freeze for a few moments," she said, demonstrating.

Remus followed her down a very long, black tunnel, the bobbing light of her wand-tip the only source of illumination. Eventually, they came to a door which opened into a very scruffy, boarded-up house that creaked and groaned in the wind.

"The Shrieking Shack," Madame Pomfrey informed him. "It's been here for years and is said to be haunted. That means no one will come and investigate if they hear you…er… making a noise."

"Howling," Remus put in.

"Er…yes."

"My dad just put silencing charms on my room."

"He leaves you in your room? What if you broke out?" She looked rather shocked.

"My room is in the basement. The walls are thick and there are no windows. I wouldn't break out." For some reason Remus couldn't fathom, she didn't look reassured by the news. In fact, she looked more disturbed than ever.

The old wooden staircase led up to a dusty bedroom sparsely decorated with battered furniture and a moth-eaten bed. There were new covers on the bed, though, and Madame Pomfrey indicated that he could lie on it. Remus felt a creaking in his bones as the full moon came closer. He shifted uncomfortably.

"I think you should go now," he said, embarrassed.

"Oh yes, of course!" Looking flustered, Madame Pomfrey hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

 _I wonder if it really is haunted in here,_ Remus thought as he removed his clothes to prevent them from getting torn. Climbing painfully onto a rickety chair, he stowed them on top of the wardrobe. The house was shadowy and filled with bumps and creaks as the wind blew outside.  _Well, even if it is, I guess nothing could be more scary than what I'm going to be in a few minutes._

He crept over and climbed onto the bed, glad that the new blankets and pillows were in Gryffindor red. They made him feel braver. There was a tiny window near the top of the wall, and he watched through it as the moon began to rise.

Remus knew he should be used to the pain by now, but he could never keep from screaming in agony as his bones literally cracked apart and reformed, forcing his skeleton into a different shape. His skin seemed to boil and melt and reform, stretching over new limbs until he was sure it would snap with the pressure. His jaw burned and cracked as it lengthened and he tasted blood as sharp teeth cut through blackening gums.

He screamed all the while; screamed and screamed until the screams turned to howls, then whimpers. After this, the wolf took over, and the part of Remus that was repulsed and human retreated to the back of his mind, hidden as the monster raged within the confines of its new cage.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

He woke to find himself lying on a splintery wooden floor, his back against the wardrobe. He opened his eyes and tried to move. Every one of his limbs protested violently, and his arms felt warm and slippery against his sides, stinging with blood and sweat.

He pulled himself up into a half sitting position and looked down, his heart sinking. It had been a very bad night. His chest, arms and legs were gnawed and bloody. The wolf hadn't liked its new cage.

Looking around the room, Remus felt sick as as he observed the mess. The Gryffindor-red blanket was in tattered shreds on the floor. Every piece of furniture was bitten and scratched and the spindly chair he had stood on the night before was mere splinters on the floor. Everything was smeared in blood, and some of the walls were splattered with urine where the wolf, as unhappy as it was with its new surroundings, had marked its territory.

It was awful and embarrassing. He didn't want Madame Pomfrey to come up and see what he had done to the house they had given him. Struggling weakly to his knees, Remus tried to right the furniture a bit. He grabbed the shredded rags of the blanket and tried to wipe the worst of the blood away, but only succeeded in smearing it.

There was no way he could reach his clothes and he felt tears of frustration and humiliation fill his eyes and fall down his stinging cheeks as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Dear Merlin!" Madame Pomfrey seemed to be stuck speachless when she opened the door to the room. Remus saw her eyes move over the blood stains and battered furniture until they landed on him, among the rags of his blanket, crying and naked.

"Sorry, sorry!" he sobbed, "I didn't mean to do it..."

"Oh, Remus." Suddenly she was kneeling beside him, her hands moving over to gently touch the edges of his wounds. "Of course not, love. No one cares about the house. I'm just worried about you. I've never seen anything this bad on such a little lad."

Then her wand was there, touching the scratches and gouges, and the blood stopped a bit and the wounds began healing.

"I would ask if it's always like this, but I can see from your scars that I wouldn't like the answer."

"Not always," Remus said, sniffing and feeling full of pain and wonder that she dared to touch him and didn't flinch away from the sight of his ugly body and dripping wounds. "The w-wolf didn't like the house. But he'll get used to it. Sometimes it's worse." He felt embarrassed and exposed as her wand moved lower to the bleeding bites on his abdomen. "I c-couldn't reach my c-clothes." He pointed to the pile on top of the cupboard.

Madame Pomfrey smiled at him. "Sensible boy, putting them up there.  _Accio clothes._ "

She caught the summoned clothes and gently helped him to stand as she wrapped his outdoor cloak around him to shield his body.

"That will do for now, I think. No one will be up and about at this time. It's too early."

Together, they staggered down the tunnel, Remus leaning most of his weight on the nurse. They stumbled as quickly as they could over the stretch of grass to the school and through to the Hospital Wing. Then, in a whirl of comforting words, warm water, potions and muttered spells, Remus found himself tucked up in a bed away from the main ward, feeling warmer and safer than he ever had before. He wondered, dimly through the fuzziness of the pain potions, if it would have been a little like this if his mother had been alive during his transformations.

One of the potions must have been a sleeping drought because Remus felt his eyelids dragged down heavily and he sunk willingly back into unconsciousness.


	10. A Fig-Like Appearance

**_"Captivate"_ **

_Dictionary definition: **verb -** to attract and hold the interest and attention of; charm._

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius didn't see Lupin again for two days after the awkward conversation in the dorm. He, along with James and Peter, didn't really notice his absence much in the days that followed. They were overtaken by a blur of new subjects, a castle to explore, mischief to create and spells to learn.

On the second Monday of their new school term, Sirius had announced to his friends in a manner reminiscent of Nicholas Flammel's when he had finally solved the problem of creating the Philosopher's Stone, that DADA was his favourite subject. This was mainly because the teacher – a very young Auror who had been put out of commission for a year due to a leg injury – was the most awesome person in the school.

Professor Anders had pale brown hair surrounding one of those faces that never loses its boyishness, no matter how old the person is. He kept up a witty repartee with his students but, as James and Sirius discovered on a day they tried to sneak some itching powder into Snape's robes while he was occupied practicing the disarming spell, he could blow up at a moment's notice, causing them to feel almost sorry for any dark wizard that crossed his path.

Sirius also enjoyed DADA because he knew his parents disapproved of it.

The subject he liked least was Potions, which was taught by the enormous Professor Slughorn. Slughorn had a stomach so large that Sirius thought he should have had his own gravitational force and maybe a few moons. He was the Slytherin Head of House, but presented a surprisingly jovial manner towards most students, particularly those who had influential families or demonstrated a flair for Potions. Unfortunately, this immediately put Sirius and Snape into the same category for both reasons respectively.

It was in one such distressing Potions lesson that Sirius, in a desperate bid to earn the teacher's disapproval and so get himself expelled from any group that contained Severus Snape, had pretended to accidentally drop a Tottenblow Togarts' Hair-Changing Toffee on the floor by Snape's cauldron. Much to his, Peter's and James's delight, Snape had picked it up and eaten it, earning himself long greasy tangle of disturbingly fluorescent lime-green hair.

"Why did we get detention?" Peter complained as the three of them wandered to the great hall that evening, after a miserable two hours cleaning the trophy room by hand. "It's not like we forced him to eat it. And besides, it was in Slytherin colours."

"Exactly!" Sirius said, as they thumped down on the bench of the Gryffindor table and began piling their plates. "In fact, I thought the colour went rather well with his eyes."

"Slughorn didn't agree when you pointed that out to him," James said, his mouth full of chicken stew.

"I can't think why not. Anything's an improvement to Snivellus' hair. A bottle of shampoo would be a great start to ridding him of his general air of repulsiveness."

"Still, it's not like we expected to get away with it," Peter said, having already inhaled half his dinner.

"I don't know how he figured out it was us." Sirius poked disconsolately at his food.

"I reckon it might've had something to do with you burping 'sucker!' then falling off your bench laughing when his hair turned green," James volunteered.

"I think there's a fig in my stew," Sirius said, unable to refute James's comment and tackling this issue with the time honoured practice of rapid subject-changing. He speared the offending object with his fork and waved it in James's direction. "I hate figs! Why would anyone put figs in stew?"

"It's not a fig, it's a mushroom," Peter said, already dishing himself up seconds.

"It's a fig. I can see it's a fig. D'you think I don't know what a fig looks like?"

"I wouldn't argue with Pete about anything to do with food, mate," James said, indicating the smaller boy's girth which was already threatening to turn him into a mini Slughorn.

Sirius looked more closely at the shrivelled black thing on the end of his fork before taking a small bite.

"Oh. It is a mushroom."

Peter smirked, his mouth so full of dumpling he could not make a sound.

"Don't look at me like that. It was a suspicious and possibly of Slytherin origin. It  _fooled_  me with its fig-like appearance!"

"Are you lot  _ever_ serious?" Lily Evans demanded, as Sirius' wild gesticulating caused the piece of mushroom-masquerading-as-a-fig to fly off his fork and onto her plate.

"Nope, only me," Sirius said proudly, "Sirius Black!"

Many Gryffindors around the table groaned at this declaration, and Lily flicked the piece of mushroom off her plate in disgust.

By the time dinner was finished, the boys were in very high spirits and headed back to the Common Room in what Professor McGonagall referred to as a disorderly manner.

"Let's play exploding snap," James suggested. "Has anyone got a set?"

"I do," Sirius said, leaping up to run to the dormitory. "I'll go get it."

He burst into the room and skidded over to his trunk on his knees. It was only once he had fished out the pack of cards and slammed it shut that he noticed the other occupant of the room. Remus Lupin lay curled on his bed, a book in his hand as he eyed Sirius warily. He looked dreadful - drawn and white with rings under his eyes so dark that it looked like he'd been punched.

"You look dreadful, Loopy," Sirius told him.

"Blame my parents. Their genes." Lupin's voice and expression was calm, but Sirius didn't miss the strain in his eyes, or the way he curled up a little more as if attempting to protect himself.

"No, I mean you look ill."

"I've been to Madame Pomfrey. I'll be fine."

Sirius looked at him doubtfully, a picture of a thin, scarred little wrist rising to his mind. He felt something oddly like a flush of anger run through him and couldn't quite understand why. Before he considered what he was doing he leapt forward and grabbed Lupin's book from his surprised hands.

"Hey! Give it back!"

Lupin made an angry grab for the book, but Sirius stepped back at the last minute and the smaller boy tumbled out of bed and landed hard on his side. He let out an odd little whining whimper of pain, reminding Sirius of a kicked puppy. Sirius waited for him to get up and tackle him again, but instead Lupin just lay there for a long moment before rising to his knees with the help of his bed and crawling back onto it.

"All right," he said, his voice tinged with weariness, "you may keep it if it makes you happy."

Sirius found he couldn't answer. He was staring at the floor where a smudge of dark red stained the area where Lupin had fallen. The boy lay curled on the bed again, his back to Sirius, and now that Sirius was looking for it, he could see the darker stain of blood on Remus' black school robes.

"Who hurt you?"

"Get out. Keep the bloody book if you want and  _get out_."

"Was it your – "

"Get out!  _Get out!_ GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!" Lupin turned his head and Sirius was confronted with a pair of manic gold-amber eyes. They looked massive in his small face and not quite sane, like an animal locked too long in a tiny cage.

Sirius took a step back, suddenly irrationally afraid. It was something from deep inside him – a primal instinct that seemed to scream  _run, run!_

But then Lupin turned his head away again and started muttering, "Stay away, stay back, stay away, please please not now…" And all Sirius could see was that too-thin back trembling and bleeding through his robes - a sight that seemed to be superimposed over the image of that little scarred wrist in his mind.

Hesitantly, he stepped forward and laid the book on the bed by Lupin's ankles. Even the boy's feet, he noticed, seemed to be curling in on themselves inside his socks. He backed away and crept out of the door.

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Sirius didn't mention the incident to Peter and James, just as they didn't comment on the fact that Lupin was back at all. Sirius kept the secret of that incident locked away in his mind where he could replay it in calm moments – such as History of Magic (which was taught by the ghost, Professor Binns, who James reckoned had bored himself to death with his own lessons. Binns didn't even notice when, due to James having spent a happy half hour practising a nifty charm they had discovered in the library that tied people's shoelaces together, every one of his students fell flat on their noses as they leapt gratefully to their feet at the end of the lesson.)

Sirius didn't know what to do about what he had seen. He sort of thought he should tell someone, but that felt strangely like a betrayal of trust – even though he had never promised Lupin anything, and didn't like him anyway.

Sometimes he would find himself staring at the back of Lupin's head where he sat at the front of the class looking small and studious and vulnerable, and tried to picture a grown-up grabbing the boy and beating him so badly he bled through his robes and caused scars on his skin so he had to wear long jumpers even in the hottest weather. At these times, that funny burning anger twisted in his stomach again and he had to restrain himself from leaping up, shaking Lupin's thin shoulders and screaming at him. He didn't know what he would scream, though. Maybe,  _"Why are you trying to hide it? I know what they're doing to you!"_  or,  _"Tell someone, you stupid, crazy idiot! Tell somebody grown up so I don't have to think about it anymore!"_

Or maybe just _, "Why did you let me see? Why did you let me know?"_

He could not stop himself from watching as Lupin walked calmly around the school from class to class. He watched as Lupin helped little Alice Richards up after she hit her head when a stair disappeared under her right foot, picking up her books and offering to take her to the Hospital Wing. He hid behind a shelf in the library one day and stared as Lupin sat quietly cross-legged on the floor in the Charms section, reading a book with a look of serene tranquillity on his face that Sirius couldn't understand. It made him almost as angry as the thought of his scars did, though this time he wanted to scream  _"Don't be calm! Don't be happy! You can't be when you're beaten and little and have no friends. Why aren't you sad? Why aren't you fighting?"_

James and Peter, caught up in their eleven-year-old, self-centred little worlds, didn't seem to notice Sirius' new habit of 'Lupin Watching'. Sometimes Sirius forgot it as well, joining in new Slytherin pranks and Snape-baiting with the abandon of a true Gryffindor, until the flash of a tawny-coloured head caught his attention again.

Sirius didn't know how many weeks had passed before he looked up from his game of chess with Peter to spot Lupin heading towards the portrait hole one evening dressed in his outdoor cloak.

"Where are you going, Loopy!" he yelled, causing the boy to jump violently and swing around to look at him. It was the first time either of them had exchanged a word since that night in the dorm.

"Home. To see my mother." Lupin turned and hurried out the portrait hole before Sirius could question him any further.

"Why do you care?" Peter asked.

"I don't." Sirius distracted his chubby friend from further questions by calmly moving his queen so that Peter was checkmated.


	11. The Irony of Double Hurts

_Must there be a secret me I'm forced to hide?_

_I won't pretend that I'm someone else for all time._

_When will my reflection show who I am inside?_

**_(Christina Aguilera - Reflection (From Disney's Mulan))_ **

**REMUS:**

_I don't know who he thinks he's kidding,_ Remus thought. He felt the now-familiar stare burning into his back as he tried to keep his attention on Professor Anders's lecture on lesser dueling jinxes. He shifted in his chair, fighting with his natural instinct to turn and face what the wolf within him considered a predatory gaze. He should be used to it by now: four months and still Black hadn't given up.

Remus could only be thankful that Black hadn't tried to talk to him again. Every time he returned from the infirmary following his transformations, Remus could feel those grey eyes rake over him, searching for signs of what Remus had so carelessly revealed to him that first moon which now seemed so long ago. It took every ounce of acting ability and full utilisation of his high pain-threshold to walk calmly through the halls, common room and classes in the few days following the full moon. He knew that if he showed even the slightest sign of weakness, Black's hesitant façade would break and he might confront Remus again.

Remus knew he was a good actor. He knew he could fool almost anyone with the stories he used to protect himself from detection. But he also knew there was only so much that acting could hide. Black believed there was someone at home who was hurting him, and that was just a little too close to true for comfort. If Black, with his piercing grey eyes and blunt searching questions could wheedle that shameful truth out of Remus, who knew what else he might end up uncovering? In spite of his reckless Gryffindor nature, a little of Black's Slytherin heritage was clearly apparent in his sharp eyes, and clever, careful assessing.

Remus shuddered to think what Potter, Black and Pettigrew might do if they found out they were sharing a room with a werewolf. At the very least they might use the information to blackmail Remus into doing something terrible, but in the worst case…

They could tell everyone. Remus would be expelled. Dumbledore's job would be in jeopardy. Werewolves weren't allowed to be educated, and Remus had read enough books in the school library to know just how bad the Wizarding World's prejudice was against his kind. If the Ministry found out, he was in real trouble. His age might count a little in his favour, but they were more than likely to lock him up in one of those werewolf reservations – particularly if his fellow students told them how unbalanced they thought he was. Or they might even choose to put him down. That's what happened to most Dark Creatures that put a human life in danger.

Remus felt himself beginning to tremble and grow clammy with fear. It was only a day after he'd been released from Madame Pomfrey's care, and his defences were low as he fought with the pain of his wounds. The thunderstorm on the night of the full moon had agitated the wolf, and his injuries were as bad as they had been on that first full moon of the year. The wolf had gnawed an impressive gash out of his leg, just above the knee. It had taken all Remus' willpower to walk to class rather than limp.

Suddenly aware of a shadow falling over him, Remus looked up.

"Mr. Lupin, are you with us?" Professor Anders asked, standing over him.

"I…er…"

"I have asked you the same question three times now."

Remus wracked his brain, hoping for some vague idea as to what the question could have been.

After a moment, the young Auror frowned and bent over to study Remus's face more closely. Remus saw his eyes flicker towards the window where the still-stormy sky was visible outside. He  _saw_ the realisation register on the man's face and, not for the first time, regretted the fact that all the professors had to be told about his condition.

"You don't look very well, Mr. Lupin," Professor Anders said, his boyish face going from stern to concerned. "Perhaps you should go and see Madame Pomfrey?"

Remus wanted nothing more than an excuse to escape that classroom and the grey eyes that watched and watched and searched for chinks in his armour, but he also knew he couldn't leave. Going now would be a sign of weakness, and he was sure Black would draw conclusions from it. He also thought of his mother and the vow he had made to do his best at school so he could come out with grades that would have made her proud. It was one of the reasons he had convinced Madame Pomfrey to release him so early.

"No, I'm fine, sir. I was just daydreaming. Could you repeat the question, please?"

Anders looked like he wanted to protest, but clearly thought the better of it. "I asked you if you would attempt to demonstrate the jellylegs jinx on Mr. Longbottom here." He gestured to where Frank was standing by the blackboard looking resigned to his role as test subject.

"Uh, yes. Yes. One moment."

Remus searched the archives of his mind for a memory of the spell. He'd been lost in his own world longer than he realised as he couldn't even remember the demonstration. Luckily he had found his DADA book fascinating, and because his father had kept him in his room for most of summer, he'd had plenty of time to study it.

He stood up, trying not to wince as the movement hurt his damaged leg. "Sorry Frank."

"S'alright, mate." He shrugged and grinned at Remus. "Gather that magic."

Remus took a deep breath and cast the jinx. He only half expected it to work, as he was so exhausted the edges of his vision kept going fuzzy round the edges if he moved to quickly. To his amazement, however, Frank started wobbling around the front of the classroom as though his legs were made of rubber.

"Excellent, Mr. Lupin!" Professor Anders was grinning at him with an expression close to amazement on his face. "I hope you all took note of his very precise wand-movement. It's not so much about the strength behind the spell on lesser jinxes like these, but the precision.  _Finite Incantatem_!" Frank stopped wobbling. "You may both sit down."

Remus sat down in relief, determined to pay attention for the rest of the lesson. Time seemed to drag and Remus felt like crying with relief when Anders finally asked them to pack up. As the class was about to leave for lunch, however, Remus felt a hand on his arm, preventing him from moving to the door. He tried to hide his wince as the hand – gentle though it was – pressed against a ragged wound on his arm.

"A moment please, Mr Lupin."

Remus glanced longingly towards the door and noticed Black standing just outside with Potter, both watching curiously. On balance he felt he could deal with Ander's questions more easily than theirs. He nodded to the professor.

"Off you go gentlemen!" Professor Anders said to Black and Potter, shutting the door and moving his wrist with a flick to cast a silencing charm

"You have some nosy friends there," he commented to Remus as he moved to sit behind his desk. "Have a seat."

Remus sat nervously at one of the student desks near the front of the classroom. "They're not my friends."

"No?" Anders said. He looked at Remus, his expression calm. "Who are your friends then?"

Remus looked down at the table. "Uh...n-no friends."

"Why not? Are you afraid they'll find out your secret?"

Remus didn't know what to say. He found he couldn't meet the man's eyes. He stared at the scratched tabletop and shook his head.

"Well then?"

"I –well, I d-don't want them to find out, of course," Remus said, flushing and flicking a glance to the sky outside. "But, that's not why I have no friends."

"Then why don't you?"

"I don't know!" Remus suddenly realised that maybe here, finally, was someone who could tell him what he was doing wrong. "I try to be nice to people, but they all just think I'm crazy and they c-call me Loopy. Or even if they don't hate me they only feel s-s-sorry for me because I don't have any friends, but because I don't have any friends no one wants to be my friend 'cause then they won't have any other friends as well. Please - what am I doing wrong?"

"Remus, you have to realise that because of your curse and the trials you've been through in your life, you regard the world in a very different way to most children of your age. You see the world a little like an adult might. You don't have illusions about the fairness of life or the darker side of magic. An ordinary eleven-year-old has never had anything to worry about except what House he will be in, or what his classmates think of him. They are quick to judge and outcast anyone who seems a little different."

"But I don't know  _how_ to be like them!" Remus slammed his fists down on the table in front of him in frustration. The desk-lid buckled and splintered and his left fist went all the way through. "S-sorry," he whispered, mortified. Werewolf strength: another thing that set him apart.  _Animal. Beast._

"It's fine, Remus, it's fine," Professor Anders said. He didn't look horrified or frightened, only sad. "And you shouldn't pretend to be like them." He stood up and approached Remus, giving a quick wave of his wand. " _Reparo._ " The desk repaired itself. "Black spends a lot of time looking at you," Anders continued. "That's why I thought you were friends."

Remus shook his head. "I share a dorm with him. One day he saw some of my …uh …s-scars and things. I think he thinks someone at home is hurting m-me."

"Why does he think that?" Professor Anders asked, frowning a little.

"I tell them that I am going home to visit my sick m-mother on full moon nights. It's easy to see why he guessed that, I suppose."

There was silence in the room and Remus could see Anders trying to think of something to help him while knowing that, without revealing his Lycanthropy, there was not much he could do.

"I try to hide my wounds from them," Remus said. "That's why I couldn't leave class today."

"So you're not well? And yet you still managed to cast an exemplary jelly-legs curse. Quite a feat, Mr. Lupin."

Remus smiled, ducking his head. "Thank you."

"Your parents will be proud."

"My mother is dead."

"I'm sorry. You father, then."

Remus felt a tremor of that same hysterical laughter that had overtaken him at the station with Potter's mother and stood quickly before it could escape. "I think I'll go to the hospital wing, now," he murmured and hurried to the door as fast as his injured leg would allow him.

"Mr. Lupin!" the sharp tone made him hesitate and look over his shoulder. "No one  _is_ hurting you at home, are they?"

Remus's heart hammered in fear. His father would  _kill_ him if anyone found out. "The wolf, sir. It hurts me wherever I am." He was amazed at how steady his voice was. He turned and hurried from the room before Anders could say any more. He was unable to keep the laugh from bubbling from his mouth as the irony of the situation hit him. In Black's case, he was using his parental beatings as an excuse to hide his lycanthropy and in Anders, he was using his lycanthropy to hide his father's beatings.

He hurried towards the Gryffindor tower, no longer caring that he was limping, unwilling to undergo the fussing that he knew he would receive if he returned to the Hospital Wing. He didn't notice the two dark-haired boys who had lingered in the corridor, staring after him in bemusement.


	12. Remus Watching

_Gertie the snow troll,_

_Has a very orange nose_

_And a smell so bad_

_That it drives men mad,_

_And kills cats where'er she goes._

_(The first verse to a popular Wizarding Christmas Carol – by Moonsign)_

**SIRIUS:**

"What do you think they're talking about in there?" James asked, as he pressed his ear to the door. "I can't hear anything. I reckon Anders must've cast a silencing charm."

Sirius scowled at the door and gave the stone wall beside it a half-hearted kick. He wondered if it had been wise to inform James of his discoveries and suspicions. Not that he'd really had a choice. The other boy had finally noticed his distraction with Lupin and there just wasn't a lie out there convincing enough to satisfy someone as bright as James.

"Maybe Professor Anders noticed he wasn't well, and decided to question him. Maybe he knows that Lupin's Mum or Dad is beating him up."

James leant against the wall and eyes narrowed at the door. "I dunno, mate," he said. "I was watching him really closely this morning on the way to class and I didn't see him limping at all."

"I'm  _not_ wrong!" Sirius snapped. James flinched and Sirius quirked his lips in an apologetic grimace. "I saw the blood and the scars. What else could it be? Besides, I was watching him even more closely than you, and I saw that the only reason he wasn't limping was because he was walking really, really carefully. He put every foot down  _just so_. He made his face  _totally blank_  – you know how he does _._ "

"Well, I didn't see anything."

Sirius sighed and decided not to argue the point anymore. Every time he did it felt like a betrayal of trust and he hated the feeling. "Let's just hang around 'til he comes out," he suggested. James sighed but nodded, dropping his book-bag on the floor and slumping further against the wall.

It wasn't that long before the door slammed open, and Lupin burst out. He very deliberately clicked the door shut behind himself, then released a violent stream of laughter that appeared to have been building up in his chest. It was a strange kind of broken, hiccoughing laughter that - had the two boys not been able to see his face – would have sounded more like crying. Lupin didn't even glance their way as he swung around and headed in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. He was limping badly and clutching his side as though his laughter pained him somewhere deep inside.

"Bloody hell," James murmured, staring after him. "He laughed just like that when my Mum asked him where his parents were on the station."

"Yeah," Sirius said. He did not add, "I told you so," but the words hung clearly in the air between them.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"He's staying for the Christmas Holidays," Sirius said, bouncing into the common room and flinging himself onto the sofa beside James and Peter.

"Who?" Peter asked.

"Lupin, of course." James rolled his eyes, grabbing his inkpot as Sirius' leap onto the sofa caused to wobble dangerously. "Who else is he obsessed with?"

"I'm not _obsessed_  with him," Sirius protested. "I just think it's a good thing he's staying here rather than going home." He glared meaningfully at James who sighed and looked away, tapping the end of his quill against his teeth while he checked through his half-completed Herbology essay.

"Who cares what Loopy does?" said Peter, bewildered. "And even if you did, wouldn't it be better for him to go home? It's not like he's got friends here."

"Who knows? What's bubotuber pus used for?"

"Why are you asking me?" Peter pulled a face. "You know I never know anything."

"Sirius?"

"Dunno," Sirius said, staring into the fire. "Something to do with acne. Maybe it causes it. Or heals it. Or gives it to tortoises. I don't care. Let's plan a good prank on Snivellus. Reg wrote that Mum heard that he and Malfoy have become friends even though Malfoy's three years older than us. Bloody suck-up. He only does that 'cause he wants to be 'in' with the Slytherin slime-prince."

He saw James and Peter perk up at the idea and felt his mood lightening. "And you'll never guess what else," he added.

"What?" James asked, his eyes gleaming.

"While I was looking at the 'Staying for Christmas List' I overheard some sixth years talking about how to get into the kitchens. Apparently there's this picture of a bowl of fruit and you have to tickle the pear to get in."

"Utterly brilliant, mate," Peter said, with an expression like a niffler who had been given the keys to Gringotts.

"Now about that prank…"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius managed to avoid thinking about Lupin and his problems for the whole two weeks leading up to Christmas. Lupin aided him in his bid to forget by avoiding their little group as much as possible as soon as the holidays started. He tended to disappear into the library as soon as he woke up for the day, or otherwise headed outside, in spite of the bone-chilling cold of Scottish winters.

Christmas at Hogwarts was like nothing any of the boys had ever experienced before. The gamekeeper, Hagrid, dragged in four massive twenty foot fir trees, still glistening with snow that he left in a melting trail from the main doors to the Great Hall. James, Sirius and Peter had thoroughly enjoyed watching the caretaker, Filch, having an apoplexy trying to decide whether to confront the huge man about the mess of slush, mud and pine-needles or to avoid an early, and possibly rather violent death and just clean up after him.

Once the trees were in the Great Hall, the few remaining students watched in delight and awe as they were decorated by the professors. Flitwick floated giant, glittering baubles and tinsel to bedeck the branches so that each of the four trees was adorned in the house colours. McGonagall raised her wand and glittering flurries of never-melting snow and great, glistening icicles covered the trees and the great arching buttresses of the Great Hall.

Professor Anders charmed the suits of armour to sing badly off-key Christmas carols with accompanying dances until a third year Hufflepuff was found unconscious in the Transfiguration corridor, having been knocked out by a steel elbow during a particularly enthusiastic rendition of  _Gertrude the Snow-troll_. After that, the suits of armour were only allowed to jig up and down to their ear-splitting solos.

Inspired by the Christmas spirit, Sirius, James and Peter managed to charm a large piece of mistletoe to follow Snape around making loud, sloppy kissing noises until someone came within two metres of the Slytherin, at which point, the noises turned to violent retching. They were consequently assigned detention with Filch who delighted in directing them to clean the corridors of Hagrid's trail of mud and melting snow. By hand.

Some other mysterious person charmed the floors of the Transfiguration, Charms and Main corridors into giant sheets of ice. Not only this, but the ice seemed to have a different effect on each of the school's different Houses. The Hufflepuffs were forced to do nauseatingly high-speed pirouettes every time they set foot on the ice. The Gryffindors, for some reason, could only skate sideways in a rather back-straining imitation of an Ancient Egyptian drawing. They could also only go in straight lines leading to rather a lot of collisions with walls, doors and other students. The Ravenclaws were doomed to skate on one leg, the other foot stiffly out behind them, and their upper bodies facing the floor so they were unable to see. This led to more collisions – usually more painful than the Gryffindors' as they were leading with their heads. The Slytherins did not seem to be able to skate in any manner at all. As soon as they set foot on the ice, they suffered drastic and rather spectacular falls, always resulting in them sitting hard and painfully on the ice.

Since the affected corridors were the only means of reaching the Great Hall, the students had to fight their way across the ice if they didn't want to starve. The Slytherins, much to the delight of the other houses, were forced to bum-shuffle their way to the Great Hall for a whole day before Flitwick broke the charms on the Houses. He left the ice where it was, however, saying that it was a spectacular display of intricate spell-work.

Needless to say, Sirius, Peter and James were once again blamed for this prank, despite their protests that they knew nothing about it. Truth be told, they would have been delighted to claim the prank as their own, and were desperate to find out who their fellow prankster was and to shake him firmly by the hand.

If they had looked up once during the eventful morning, they would have glimpsed a little figure perched on top of the column of one of the elegant flying buttresses in the Main corridor. The figure had wild, tawny hair and flushed cheeks. He was leaning on a school broom and laughing so hard that he had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from giving himself away. No one in the school would have recognised the expression of carefree joy and mischief on the face of Remus Lupin as he clutched  _The Revised Book of Advanced Charms_  to his chest and allowed his Inner Marauder free reign over the school.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius, for the first time all year woke up, not only on his own, but also very early on Christmas morning. He sat up and his eyes immediately fell to the massive pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He was never more thankful of pure-blood and Slytherin politics than on Christmas morning. No member of the very extended and convoluted Black family could afford to begrudge the heir (disgraced thought he was) a Christmas present.

He glanced over to James' bed. The boy had only made a half-hearted attempt at closing his curtains when they had staggered in the night before after a wild pre-Christmas party in the common room. Sirius could see that his friend had just as many presents as he did and he grinned. He leaned over the edge of his bed, picked up a shoe and tossed it at James' head. The other boy woke with a jerk.

"Siiiiirius!" he whined, his voice fuzzy with sleep. "You're a  _wizard!_ Can't you think of a more elegant way to wake me up without getting out of your bed?"

"Presents, Jamesie!"

James sat up at once, too excited even to reprimand Sirius over the mangling of his name. He immediately dived towards the pile.

Sirius smiled and looked away, glancing towards Lupin's bed opposite. Like James, the boy had forgotten to close his curtains properly, and it was clear from where Sirius was sitting that there were only two presents sitting on Lupin's faded duvet cover. One was quite large and wrapped in bright paper with a fluttering snitch pattern. The other was small and long and wrapped in brown paper. Lupin was curled right up near the top of his bed in a little ball, his breathing steady, still fast asleep.

"James!" Sirius hissed as quietly as he could, drawing his friend's attention away from his manic present-unwrapping. He pointed towards Lupin's bed and James' hands stilled as he caught sight of the two packages. He sent Sirius a rather pained look. Then glanced at his own covered bed with something like embarrassment.

"Well, what can  _we_  do?" he whispered back.

Sirius glanced down at his own pile of presents and spotted the very definite shape of a box of chocolate frogs. The label on it, written in ugly, black, spidery handwriting informed him that it was from his Great-Aunt Berryl.

He reached out and carefully peeled the label off without tearing the paper and slipped out of bed.

"What're you doing?" James asked, shocked.

"He won't know it's from me. There's no label."

James hesitated, then rooted round in his presents until he found a familiar shaped box wrapped in violet and orange stripy paper.

"Fizzing Wizbees. From my cousin, Doris. I never liked her anyway." Blushing a little, he pulled off the label and handed the box to Sirius. Sirius crept towards Lupin's bed and carefully laid the presents on it, without disturbing its still sleeping occupant. He glanced at the two presents already there.

"Who're the other's from?" James asked as he tiptoed back.

"Dunno who the brown one is from, but the bigger one's from Frank. Looks like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."

"Thank Merlin for Frank and his massive heart," James murmured so softly that Sirius was almost sure he wasn't meant to hear it.

"Shall we wake Pete?" Sirius said, grinning and talking in his normal voice again.

James' face broke into a wicked answering grin. They looked at each other for a moment, before suddenly breaking out into loud cackling howls, yanking aside Peter's curtains and leaping onto his bed to jump up and down. Peter woke with a scream as both he and his presents were bounced out of his bed.

"You gits!" he wailed, trying to disentangle himself from his bedclothes and attempting to crawl back onto his still bouncing bed. James and Sirius just sniggered at him and bounced harder until Sirius hit his head on the curtain rail and collapsed with a grunt of pain.

"Serves you bloody right!" Peter said, shoving him off and gathering up his scattered presents. "You'd better hope none of these were breakable."

Sirius noticed Lupin's curtains opening out of the corner of his eye and a sleep-ruffled head peered out to watch the comotion.

"Prezzies!" James yelled, taking a flying leap off Peter's bed and back onto his own opposite. He dived into his present opening with renewed vigour. Sirius leapt up to join him and for a while, there was no conversation in the dormitory other than the odd exclamation of delight or surprise.

Sirius glanced up to see Lupin staring open-mouthed at the three boxes of sweets in front of him. The brown paper package still lay untouched.

"What you got there, Loopy?" Sirius asked, grinning.

"Who did these come from?" the boy asked, looking up at Sirius with a furrowed brow.

Sirius shrugged, glad of his own acting skills. "Dunno. Your family?"

"No, that one's from my father," Lupin said, pointing a finger at the brown package. As he did so, the sleeve of his too-long pyjama top slipped back and revealed his thin, scarred wrist. He slipped it back quickly, but Sirius felt that odd twisting just below his diaphragm at the brief glimpse.

"What about your mother?" Sirius asked, and was surprised to find that his voice could sound so gentle.

"She is not in any … condition to send me presents right now." Lupin looked away and touched a wondering hand to the box of chocolate frogs by his knee.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said.

Lupin shrugged and there was a long awkward pause in which Sirius realised that James and Peter were listening in on their conversation.

"Aren't you gonna open it?" Peter asked eventually, pointing to brown paper package.

Remus sighed and picked it up, feeling it with his fingers. He opened one end really carefully and tipped the present out onto his bed. It was a silver pudding spoon. For a second, Sirius was sure he saw an expression of fear and revulsion flare on Lupin's pale face, but then it was calm again. He stared down at the spoon dispassionately.

"Your father sent you a  _spoon_ for Christmas?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Remus said, gathering his sweets into his arms and retreating to the top of his bed.

James cleared his throat. "If it makes you feel any better it looks quite expensive," he said. "Solid silver."

Remus hummed a little in the back of his throat though Sirius wasn't sure if it was in agreement. He slid out of bed and set up his chocolate frogs, fizzing wizbees and every flavour beans carefully on his bedside table, as though showing off priceless ornaments to their best effect.

When he noticed the other three boys were still watching him he flushed. "M'gonna shower," he muttered, before grabbing his towel and heading into the bathroom.

"Well," James said after a while, as the sound of a running shower rose from the other room. "That was odd."

"It really was," Sirius agreed, looking towards the spoon that lay innocently on the end of Lupin's bed.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Who cares what everyone thinks?" Sirius demanded, as they wandered together along the potions corridor one lunchtime in early February. Peter was still with Slughorn, having received a detention for blowing up his cauldron for the third time and consequently causing all those splattered to grow long, braided hair out of their nostrils.

James didn't answer his question, obviously bored with the argument they'd been having since Christmas.

"You didn't care at the beginning of the year when you stood on the bench and cheered for me," Sirius persisted.

"That was different. I knew you were cool and I knew you weren't crazy. Well, not as much as Loopy."

"It's not his fault, James. Imagine if your Dad beat you so much you were all bleeding and scarred. You'd also be a bit mental. Can't we give him a chance? Like… probation?"

"No. Definitely not."

" _Why?_  You won't even give him chance?"

"That's not what I meant. It's just...if we make friends with him, it can't be on probation. Even I can see how cruel that would be – giving him that chance and then taking it away. We would have to be properly friends with him." James sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"So we can, then?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"Why d'you want this so much?"

"James." Sirius stopped suddenly, and turned to look at him, uncharacteristically serious. "My mother hit me once. Proper hard - right across the face. Her ring cut my cheek and made it bleed. It was...it was really bad. Not just 'cause it hurt, but also 'cause it was  _my mum_ who should be, you know, not like... I mean, it would be different if she'd given me a smack on the behind or something – I would probably deserve that - but a proper wallop right across the face so I bled…"

"Sirius..."

Sirius shook his head violently. "Imagine your mum or dad doing that all the time and much, much worse stuff that a whack across the face. His scars, mate. You didn't see them."

They stood in silence for a bit, then James said, "All right. All right, you win. We'll make friends with him."

Sirius felt the thing that had been knotted and twisted painfully just below his diaphragm for so many months relax and a smile of relief slipped onto his face. He'd known James would come around eventually.

"What are those lot up to?" James asked suddenly, pointing to the end of the corridor where four Slytherins – Snape, Malfoy, Nott and Lestrange were eyeing-up something down one of the other corridors. Snape looked very small compared to the hulking fourth years.

"Shall we follow them?" Sirius asked.

"Under here." James had pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag (stored there for impromptu mischief making) and the two of them slid under it. They crept to the end of the corridor, just as the Slytherins disappeared from sight. They turned the corner and stopped in shock. Malfoy held a struggling Lupin up against the wall by his shabby robe.

"… Loony little lion wondering down here all on his own?" Malfoy was sneering, his face pressed close to Lupin's.

"Oh no you don't," Nott said, grabbing Lupin's wand from his hand and throwing it over his shoulder so it hit the wall a little way down the corridor towards Sirius and James.

"What do we do?" Sirius hissed, his mouth close to James' ear, "We can't take on four Slytherins on our own!"

"Get a Professor?" James suggested, his eyes flicking over the deserted corridor.

"I've heard about you little lion," Malfoy was still saying, seeming to find Lupin's struggles amusing. "Even the other lions don't want you in their big-headed pride. You're an outcast. Crazy. Alone. No one would miss you if I killed you right now would they?" He words jarred sickeningly with his honeyed tone.

Sirius desperately wanted to run and get help, but he didn't want to leave Lupin alone with the snakes either.

"I bet even your dirty, mudblood parents wouldn't miss you."

James and Sirius could only just make out Lupin's face from where they stood, but it was enough for them to see the flare of something wild and primal in the boy's eyes. Without conscious thought they both took a step back, and even the Slytherins stiffened.

"Don't you talk to me like that!" Lupin spat, his voice hoarse from the grip Malfoy had on his throat, but seeming to throb with something deeper.

"Or what? You'll roar at us, little lion?" Malfoy asked, though the faintest uncertainty escaped in his tone. Sirius couldn't imagine what it must be like to stare into those blazing eyes from that close. Malfoy wrenched Lupin's robes even harder and there was the sound of tearing fabric.

Sirius was barely aware of the blur of movement, but suddenly the scene was different. Malfoy was doubled over in pain, his hands over his groin, gasping. His eyes were a little vacant and there was already a livid bruise growing on his forehead. Nott was knelt on the floor, clutching his nose while blood streamed out of it, and Lestrange seemed to be out cold. Snape, apparently unharmed, was staring down at Lupin in frozen terror as the smaller boy stood against the wall, breathing hard.

Lupin's face was twisted into a snarl and his eyes almost seemed to be glowing yellow. He took a few deep breaths before stalking over to grab his wand. Then he approached the Slytherins again and held his wand to the gasping Malfoy's throat. His back was now to Sirius so he couldn't see his expression.

"If you see me coming you'd best step aside," Lupin hissed directly into the boy's face, every line on his body screaming attack-mode. "A lot of men didn't," he leaned even closer, "A lot of men died." **

He stepped back, picking up his book-bag where it had been thrown on the floor and looked ready to leave.

"Freak!" Nott said suddenly, looking up and pointing at Lupin's chest, ignoring the blood that smeared his face. It took Sirius a moment to realise Lupin's robes must have been torn all the way open to reveal his bare chest.

Malfoy looked up and suddenly he was pointing too, laughing cruelly and a little hysterically. "Ah! Freak,  _freak_! I know what you are! You really  _are_ a little freak! You wait! You wait 'til I tell everyone you – "

He didn't get a chance to finish. Lupin had been frozen by the words, but now he suddenly sent one terrified amber glance over his shoulder, before he pointed his wand at Malfoy and shrieked " _Obliviate!_ "

Malfoy's eyes grew large and blank. Before the others had time to react, there were two more cries of  _"Obliviate! Obliviate!"_ and the other two fourth years relaxed, their eyes growing vacant as well. Lupin turned a sad face towards Snape who was still frozen with shock nearby. " _Obliviate._ "

The Slytherins blinked at him owlishly and Lupin said in a trembling voice, "This never happened. Not any of it." Then he turned and ran away down the corridor.

Sirius felt James tugging on his arms and they both turned and hurried in the opposite direction.

"My God! Oh Merlin!" James leant over gasping as soon as they burst out the door that led out to the Herbology greenhouses. Sirius pulled the cloak off their heads with shaking hands.

"What the bloody hell just h-happened?" he stammered.

"Lupin really is crazy. And maybe evil," James said, hazel eyes wide and frightened. "Eleven-year-olds shouldn't be able to cast  _Obliviate_. It's a difficult curse and completely illegal. And he did it  _four_ times."

"What did he do to them?" Sirius asked, his knees giving out so he collapsed to the ground. "Before the  _Obliviate_ , I mean?"

"Dark magic," James said tremulously. " _Wandless_ dark magic. I didn't even know that was possible."

They sat in silence for a moment, both still too shaken to think straight.

"You reckon we should go to a teacher?"

"No," Sirius said. "They were asking for it. Attacking him like that. He's never done anything like that to us. Let's just avoid him. Not get him angry. Or maybe we already have. Do you think he's  _Obliviated_  us?"

James shivered, but shook his head. "No. He was terrified. Did you see his face? I think that must've been the first time."

"He just went crazy. Did you see his eyes?"

It was a long time before the two of them felt calm enough to head back to the Gryffindor Tower. Lupin came back much later that night and crept into bed. Sirius felt his heart thudding in fear until he heard an odd choking snuffling coming from the smaller boy's bed. It sounded like muffled sobs. Perhaps Lupin was possessed. Maybe he felt guilty. But Sirius couldn't bring himself to forget those yellow, feral eyes and the look of abject terror on Malfoy's aristocratic face.

And that's how it was for the rest of the term. James, Sirius and Peter avoided Lupin even more purposefully than they had before and Lupin seemed so quiet and withdrawn that it wasn't even hard. Sirius no longer stared at him, afraid of what the boy would do if he caught him and got angry.

He, James and Peter immersed themselves in pulling pranks and getting out of detentions. Summer rolled around and with it, the end of the year. The students piled onto the Hogwarts Express ready to head back to Platform nine and three-quarters.

As Sirius climbed off the train at the other end and headed towards his sour-faced mother dragging his trunk behind him, he caught sight of Lupin looking shrunken, ill and skinny next to a stocky, dark-haired, brutish looking man.

The man grabbed Lupin's arm which was still covered with a long sleeve in spite of the heat. He dragged the sleeve back and Sirius caught sight of more of the small, scarred arm than he had ever seen before. His traitorous heart shuddered in sympathy. The man glanced around to make sure no one was obviously watching, then dug in his pocket and pulled out something that he held in his palm and pressed to Lupin's bare skin. The little boy went deathly pale and he caught his lower lip in his mouth. Sirius actually saw a dribble of blood head down his chin as his teeth sank in.

The man leant forward and murmured something to Lupin, who nodded jerkily. His arm was released and he stood for a moment visibly trembling. Then he quietly rolled down his sleeve and picked up the end of his trunk to follow the man off the platform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Okay, yes, I admit, Remus and I shamelessly pinched this line from the old song 'Sixteen tonnes'. Remus would probably have heard it from his mother and used it to his advantage in this situation.


	13. Summer Holidays First Year

**SUMMER HOLIDAYS – End of First Year:**

_Remus Lupin's Summer Journal_

_July 14_

I've never kept a journal before. I found this one in the cupboard in the spare room when Dad locked me in there a few hours ago. The cupboard is mostly empty except for a really ugly old fur coat, a mop with a broken handle and one shelf really high up where all sorts of weird and useless stuff is kept – a wooden charm for warding off apricots (why? When have apricots ever attacked anyone?), a teapot that Transfigures tea to pumpkin juice as it comes through the spout (again, why? Why not just buy pumpkin juice?), a trick wand (I unluckily discovered that it stuffs itself up the nose of anyone who tries to cast a spell with it) and a few other stupid things that either my mum or my dad never got around to throwing away.

I wish I knew who it was who put that stuff up there. It looks like it's been there a long time, so it could have been Mum. I found this journal up there. It's not magical or pretty or anything. Actually, it's more like a Muggle notebook than a journal. That makes me think it must have been my mum's, since she was Muggle-born and my dad is a pureblood. That's why I'm writing in it. It makes me feel close to her, like when I sit on the floor in the library at school.

Maybe she cast a spell on it so that wherever she is, even if she's dead, she can read what is written in here. Can you read this, Mum? If you can I don't think you would be very impressed with who I've grown up to be. You told me not to let the wolf change me, but it has. I'm stupid and weak, and it has.

The other day some boys attacked me at school and I used my werewolf strength to hurt them quite badly. They had torn my clothes open and they saw my bite-scar. They're Slytherin purebloods so they know all about Dark Creatures. I know that Malfoy knew what I was as soon as he saw it. I  _Obliviated_ them. It was a really bad thing to do, I know, but I was scared they would tell everyone about me. I don't really know what to do now. I'm sure Dumbledore must know something – he knows everything that goes on in this school - but he hasn't said anything.

I don't have any friends, Mum, and I think my Inner Marauder died when I cast those memory charms. I haven't felt it for months. The wolf is inside me, though, pacing up and down and telling me to hurt people all the time. Everyone thinks I'm crazy at school, but I don't know how to be normal. When I see other people with their friends it makes me feel sick and my throat hurts. I sometimes want to scream at them "Why won't you be my friend!" but I know already. They can see the wolf inside me, even if they don't know what it really is.

The wolf has changed me, and I don't think there is a way to change back. I think if you knew me now, you wouldn't like me. There is something in me that makes people not be able to like me.

You used to love the moon. We both did. Now I hate it so much I would tear it out the sky and smash it to bits if I could.

You would hate me for that too.

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18th July

Dear James,

Thanks for the letter. Things are okay here. It's nice to see Regulus again. He helped me pull a welcome-home-prank on old Aunt Maude. Evil hag, she is. She keeps telling my mum to disown me and burn me off the family tree and send me to my goodfornothing Uncle Alphard. I wish she would.

Anyway, Evil Aunt Maude sits there in the lounge when she visits, pouring giant sloshes of fire whiskey into her tea and growling about Muggles and Dumbledore and how awful I am. Can you really blame Reg and me for filling her fire-whiskey bottle with Mum's hair-loss potion? It's not meant to be drunk, I think. It's meant for ladies to use on their hairy legs or something.

Well, anyway, it was HILARIOUS! Every scrap of hair on her whole pee-smelling, wrinkly, disgusting old body fell out, and they haven't found a way to make it grow back yet. I'm in the cellar now. They locked me in here as punishment. Reg guessed I would be in here a lot this holiday, so he hid some candles in an old barrel before I came home so at least I have some light (they took my wand). He also left this parchment and quill here so I had something to do. It was the bravest thing he's ever done. If Mum found out she would be furious.

I saw something weird at the station before I went home. I saw Lupin with this old bloke who must have been his dad. He (his dad) took something out his pocket and pressed it to Lupin's arm. I think it really hurt him because he bit right through his lip until it bled. Then his dad whispered something to him and he just followed him off the platform. His whole arm was scarred like his wrist. I know you're going to be mad at me for me starting my Lupin-watching again, but I just don't get it. If he's powerful enough to hurt four giant Slytherins, why can't he stand up to his own dad?

Anyway, I'd better go now. I think Regulus just slid a note under the door. I'll slide this one back under so he can post it for me maybe. I hope you get it.

Sirius

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Siri,

Wen do you think mum will let you out? She neva left you in ther longer than 2 days befor, and its already bin 3 now. We shoodent of done that too Aunt Maude and I dont know why she didn't punnish me also. She must of nown I helpt. I hop you found the candels and stuff ok Ill go and bribe Kreecha to bring you some food.

Regulus

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_Remus Lupin's Summer Journal_

_July 25_

Hi Mum,

Everyone would laugh at me if they could read this. Or maybe think I was crazy(er) or something. I know it's stupid thinking I can talk to my dead mum through a Muggle notebook.

I wish you were here still. If you were, you could teach me how to make more burn-potion. I've run out and I don't dare ask Dad for more. There's a burn on my stomach from last Monday because I yelped like an animal when I dropped a cabinet on my toe rather than saying 'ow' like a normal person. It's a really bad one and I think it might be getting infected. I've been locked in my room since then. It's been eight days and the wolf is getting really grumpy about being locked in here. I'm sick of toast. That's all he gives me in this room – toast and toast and toast. And no butter or jam like I get at Hogwarts.

If I'm good, he says he might let me out tomorrow. I promised to stay out of his way. I like sitting in the garden, though now it has walls all the way round it to keep me in. Remember when it used to be open all the way to the forest behind us?

The burn is all reddish-white and swollen. I think it was because he kept the spoon on there for so long. I thought I was going to faint it hurt so much. If it gets pus, then I really have to worry, right? It's very hot as well. Is that bad? I don't know what to do. I wish you were here. I wish anyone was here. Even my stupid roommates from school who don't like me. At least they don't hurt me. And I think if I was really in trouble they might help me out. They're Gryffindors and it's what Gryffindors do. As long as they didn't know I was a werewolf. If they knew that they would report me to the Ministry, I think.

They watched me a lot this year. Over Christmas I even thought they might start to talk to me. Someone gave me presents for Christmas. Well, Dad sent me a silver spoon as a warning about what would happen to me when I came home for summer, but other people did too. It's the first time I've had real presents since the Christmas before That Night. One was from this boy called Frank. I think he likes me a little. He doesn't hate me, anyway.

But other people left me presents too. Some chocolate frogs and fizzing wizbees. They were wrapped up but didn't have labels. I thought they might have been from my dorm mates, but they never said anything, and after Christmas they avoided me even more than before.

I kept the presents, though. I haven't eaten a single thing. I have them on top of my cupboard, and I will take them back to school after summer. I don't know who my secret friends are, but I'm glad they sent me presents at Christmas. If I knew who they were, I would be able to send presents back. That's what friends do isn't it, Mum? They give each other presents and stand up for each other and protect each other. It's nice to know that two people out there cared enough to send them to me.

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July 28th

Dear Sirius,

You mother locks you in the cellar as punishment!? How long does she keep you there? I know it's long enough that you need candles and parchment and quill to keep you busy. Seriously, mate, that's not normal. She shouldn't be treating you like that. I thought you were exaggerating when you said she hit you and made you bleed. I thought you only said that to make me feel sorry for Lupin. You should tell someone. It's not on.

Your prank did make me laugh. I wish I thought of it when my Great Grandma Hortense came to visit. She's the most disgusting old bag I've ever met. She treats me like a house elf, ordering me around when my parents aren't there to tell her off. And she has hair coming out of her nostrils and this giant boil thing on her neck. I would be doing her a favour making it all fall out.

About Lupin. I don't really know what to say. Maybe whatever he did to the Slytherins he got from his father? That's why he wouldn't be able to protect himself against him because his father would be stronger. He's a weird one. I think it's best if we keep away from him. If we make friends with him, who knows what would happen? I still don't get why you're so obsessed with him.

My parents are going to buy me a new broom for my birthday in August. The Nimbus 1003. It's AMAZING! I saw a picture in  _Which Broomstick?_ I was playing Quidditch with Dad yesterday, but it's not the same without you. I wish you could come and visit here, but I guess your Mum wouldn't let you. Maybe we can meet up in Diagon Alley?

Write back soon,

James

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1st August

Dear James,

I would love to meet up in Diagon Alley with you and Sirius! We could meet up around your birthday so we can give you your presents. I'm afraid this has to be a quick letter. Mum wants me to go to see this new film (like a wizarding photograph except it tells a whole story) with her. Send me a date and I will see if I can come!

Peter

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12th August

Dear Remus,

I have requested that this owl only approach you if you are alone. I have argued with myself all summer, and I find that I could not help but to send you this letter. As you know, I won't be your DADA teacher next year as I am going back to my Auror work, but I would like you to know that if you ever need any help, all you have to do is write to me and request it.

I know you thought you had fobbed me off with your pretty line about the wolf always hurting you, but I saw the panic in your eyes. I'm trained to notice things like that. I really believe your father is hurting you, and I can't just ignore what I know and leave you to suffer. As much as you may play the part of an adult, you are still a child and, because I know of the abuse, I have a responsibility to do everything in my power to protect you.

Don't worry, Remus, I will not do anything drastic without your consent, but if I could, I would make sure your father was severely punished for hurting you as he does. Please allow me to do something to help you. There is a whole department in the Ministry devoted to helping abused children. Let me contact them for you?

I'm not only writing this out of a feeling of responsibility. I find myself in awe of your strength and courage. I am amazed that someone as young as you has faced the dreadful trials in your life and come out with a calmness and maturity beyond your years. Please allow me to help you.

Neil Anders

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13th August

Dear Professor Anders,

I'm fine and I wasn't lying. The wolf does hurt me here and at school. It's not 'abuse' or whatever you think. My Dad never did anything to me that I didn't deserve. He's only trying to help make the wolf stay inside me and not hurt people.

You don't know anything about me. You think I am good and calm and normal, but I'm not. You don't know that I am wicked and broken and wrong. If you saw my room you would know what I mean. You could see what the wolf does – all blood and scratches and torn furniture and pee where it marks its place.

Please leave me alone.

Remus Lupin.

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_Remus Lupin's Summer Journal_

_July 23rd_

Dear Mum,

The burn has become very infected, and I have others now as well. Dad says he's 'keeping the wolf at bay', and I want to believe him, but every time he presses the silver to my skin, it just seems to make to wolf angrier. I feel really hot and dizzy. I really need some healing potion.

And I am worried about Professor Anders as well. He's wrong about Dad. Dad's only trying to protect me. He calls it 'abuse', but it's not true. Dad would never do that. You loved him didn't you? You would never love someone who did things that were bad. He is doing these things for my own good. I told Professor Anders that. It was the right thing to do, wasn't it, Mum? Does this even make sense? I feel really strange. I have to think of some way to get some healing potion.

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23rd August

Dear Frank,

I wonder if you would be able to send me some healing potion? My father is away, so I can't ask him. I burnt myself on the stove and it has got infected. I'll pay you when we get back to school. I'm too far away from any apothecary to buy some myself.

Thank you,

Remus

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Dear Remus,

My Mum says you should see a healer if your burn is infected. Where's your dad? Why are you alone at home? You could get really ill if there's no one there to look after you. Please go and see a healer. Here is some potion for now. Don't worry about the money. It was in our cabinet already.

Frank

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	14. Questions and Secrets

_Child abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime._

_(Herbert Ward)_

**REMUS:**

Remus was glad he'd managed to find an empty carriage almost as soon as he stepped onto the train at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He had been feeling increasingly hot and strange and dizzy over the last few days and the swelling of the burn had not really got any better, in spite of the potion that Frank had sent him. He worried that he was going to have to go to the Hospital Wing. It was two weeks away from the last full moon and he would have a difficult time persuading Madame Pomfrey that the oval-shaped burns that now littered his body along with the bruises came from that transformation.

He placed his hand over the infected burn through his robes. It throbbed painfully at the touch and his head felt heavy as he leant it against the cool glass of the window. It hadn't been this bad when he'd been lying still and silent in his room at home. The movement seemed to have made it worse.

As the train began pulling away from the station, a couple of first years peered around the door of his compartment and Remus snarled at them until they squeaked and ran away. He fought down the wolf and slumped back in his seat. It was a long journey to Hogsmeade station. Although his savage wolf-glares managed to keep him his compartment, the motion of the train made him feel iller, hotter and dizzier than ever. Even getting out his new journal didn't work as a distraction because his eyes were too fuzzy to focus on it properly.

It felt like days of torture, rather than hours before the train finally approached Hogsmeade station. He staggered out, glad that the house elves would be moving his trunk up to his dorm so that he didn't have to drag it behind him. He pulled himself up into the nearest coach, ignoring the horrible bat-horse creature that pulled it.

He looked up to see the coach's other occupants and groaned when he met the incredulous gazes of his roommates.

"Who said you could sit with us, Loopy?" Pettigrew demanded.

Remus stared fuzzily as Potter elbowed the smaller boy in the ribs then exchanged a meaningful glance with Black who, Remus now realised, was sitting beside him. Unable to face an argument, Remus sighed and pulled himself up to move to another coach. He jumped when he felt a hand on his arm, stopping him.

He blurrily followed the line of the arm up to Black's face, and saw Black's eyes widen as he looked at him.

"Bloody hell, mate," he said, peering at Remus in the dim light of the carriage, "You look like death warmed up."

Black gave a tug on his arm and Remus' legs gave out. He sat back down hard and shivered when a hand touched his clammy forehead. He was very dizzy now and the boys' faces were flicking in and out of focus like a fuzzy wizarding photograph. He thought Black or Potter might be saying something else but he couldn't be sure because there was a strange roaring in his ears. He was vaguely aware of the rocking movement of the carriage which made his stomach roll, and of urgent, muffled conversation around him. Someone tried to loosen his robes and Remus thought he might have snapped at their fingers, but he wasn't sure.

Then the rocking stopped and the door opened. Someone put their hand under his arm to try and help him out the carriage, but they touched one of his silver burns and the pain was enough to tip him over the edge. Blackness took him.

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Remus slowly came back to consciousness. He didn't need to open his eyes to know he was in the hospital wing. His strong sense of smell immediately identified the sterile scent of clean sheets, scrubbed stone and healing potions.

Someone – Madame Pomfrey, he guessed – had removed his robes and shirt and was now rubbing something very cold onto the infected burn on his belly. The coldness and pain made him tense but he didn't make a sound and didn't open his eyes. He heard her begin to mutter a spell under her breath and slowly the hot, throbbing pain that had been plaguing him for weeks began to ease. Unable to help himself, he shuddered with relief.

"Mr. Lupin? Remus?"

Reluctantly, Remus opened his eyes and stared up at her sleep-blurred image. He was not in the hidden back-room that he usually stayed in after his transformations, he realised, but in one of the beds in the main area of the hospital wing.

"Who did this to you? I know these are silver burns."

Even with his sleep-fugged mind, Remus knew he couldn't tell her the truth. She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't realise his father only hurt him to prevent him from becoming the animal the wolf threatened to make him. His mind raced as he desperately tried to think of a good explanation.

"Remus? Talk to me, please. Who did this?"

"Some people. From where I live." His voice sounded really odd. Scratchy and dry, like the voice of an old man, only not because it hadn't broken yet.

" _Who_ Remus?"

"Just some people who know I am a w-w-werewolf." It was strange how difficult it was to saw that word out loud.

"Grown up people?" Her voice was deceptively gentle, but Remus could hear the underlying current of vengeful anger in it. For some reason, it made him feel warm inside. It was the first time since his mother had died he could remember anyone displaying anger on his behalf. His father was usually angry  _at_ him.

"Yes." No need to let her think he was weak.

"Who?"

Remus closed his eyes and didn't answer.

"Why didn't your father do anything to help you?"

"I hid it from him."

" _Why_?"

"I didn't want him to w-worry. I thought he might be w-worried."

"That's ridiculous! Do you know how much  _poison_ was being released into you body from this infection? If those boys hadn't brought you in there might have been permanent damage. How could your father not have noticed this?"

"He's b-b-been away." Remus was quite desperate now.

"Oh, Remus." She leaned down and gently put her hand to his forehead, preventing him from trying to lift his head. "I'm not angry at you, love, but this is inhumane. This is  _abuse_."

Remus winced violently at the word.

"Tell me who did this."

"I don't know! I don't kn-n-now! They didn't show their faces."

She was silent. She picked up the pot of lotion again and began applying it to the smaller burns that littered his body.

"How long, Remus?"

"What?"

"How long have they been hurting you? Don't think I can't see that some of these burn scars are old. I should have noticed before. I don't know why I didn't."

Remus didn't answer. He couldn't think of a good story and his head felt fuzzy again.

"Remus?"

The white of the ceiling was starting to melt into the grey stone of the walls and Remus blinked at everything started going dark around the edges. Madame Pomfrey sighed and Remus glanced down his body as she began poking at the edges of the infected burn again. It looked disgusting. She had obviously opened it to drain it, and it now looked like a bloody crater a few inches above his naval. One if her pokes made a thread of violent nerve-pain shoot through his body, right up to his chest and down to his thighs. Unable to help himself, he let out a loud, wolf-like yelp of pain. As soon as he heard it, he automatically froze, waiting for the punishment to come.

"It's sorry, love," she whispered, obviously thinking his frozen tension was due to his pain rather than his ingrained fear. "I know it hurts, but I need to check it's clean. You'll have to stay here for a few days, I think."

"But the Sorting…"

"Is already long over. You were unconscious for a while, Mr. Lupin. It took both Black and Potter to drag you in here, with that Pettigrew opening doors."

Remus didn't know what he thought about that. He remembered Pettigrew calling him Loopy, and Black's hand on his arm.

"Drink this."

He obediently opened his mouth and Madame Pomfrey poured what he recognised as pain potion down his throat. Gradually the walls became fuzzy again as he slipped into sleep.

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He woke again to the sense of someone watching him. A year of sharing the same dormitory immediately enabled him to identify who it was by scent – a delicate mixture of good-quality fabric, spicy citrus from expensive shampoo and the blue-grey smell of an approaching rain-storm that was probably all Black's own.

Remus groaned, shifted and opened his eyes, turning his face towards the scent. Black was standing over him with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his robes and an unusually solemn expression on his handsome, aristocratic face. The lack of his usual mischievous grin made Black look older for some reason.

Remus flicked his gaze away from those slate-grey eyes and down towards his own chest, checking that Madame Pomfrey had dressed him in a hospital gown so his wounds and scars were covered.

"It's okay, I can't see them," Black said, tone unreadable.

"What?" Remus kept his voice as blank and unwelcoming as possible. It was almost not a question.

"Your scars," Black said, not seeming to be fazed. "I can't see them. But I know they're there. You almost bit my fingers off when I tried to loosen your robes to help you breathe on the coach."

Remus had no idea how to react in this situation. It was uncomfortable but at the same time oddly alluring. He was having a civilized conversation with a person his age and the word 'loopy' hadn't been used once yet. "I don't know what you mean by s-scars."

"Like hell, you don't."

Before Remus could react, dosed up as he was on sleeping drought and pain potions, Black reached down and yanked back his sleeve, revealing his scarred arm. The bunched fabric pressed against one of the burns and caused Remus to emit a half-swallowed whimper of pain. He jerked his arm out of Black's grasp and pulled down his sleeve, cradling his arm defensively.

"Sorry." For the first time ever, Remus thought Black might have actually meant the apology. "I didn't mean to hurt you. But I  _do_ know about the scars. What does Madame Pomfrey say, hm? Does she know who does this to you?"

"Don't what you mean," Remus said, curling up a little further into his defensive ball. All good feelings had vanished and he only wanted Black gone.

"Does she know it's your dad who's hurting you?"

If he had used the word 'abuse' Remus might have been able to withdraw fully from his words, but even if he knew it was for his own good, it  _was_ his father hurting him. "You don't know  _anything_ about my father," he snapped. "He only wants what's best for me. Now leave me the hell alone!"

"I hit a nerve," Black observed, head tilted to one side so his wavy black hair brushed his shoulder.

"You know  _nothing_."

"I know I saw him press something to your arm at the station. And I know it hurt you enough that you bit through your lip."

Remus felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. "You're wrong!" he screamed, voice hoarse and protesting. " _You're wrong!_ " His terror and fear gave him the strength to sit up in bed, his fingers curled into claws, lips skinned back from his teeth. Black actually took a step back, looking frightened.

" _GET OUT!_ "

Black backed out of the hospital wing quickly, just as Madame Pomfrey burst out of her office. Remus sank back to the bed feeling utterly drained.

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2nd September

Dear Minerva,

I need to speak to you regarding Remus Lupin. I'm worried that someone at home is abusing him. Hints that he has unconsciously made in the past lead me to believe it might be his father, but he venomously denies this and claims it is prejudice adults who know he is a werewolf. I am very concerned for his health – both mental and physical. Please stop by the Hospital Wing and your earliest possible convenience to discuss how we should approach this matter.

Poppy


	15. Wishing on Moonshadows

**SIRIUS:**

"Sirius!" James yanked the invisibility cloak off himself and Peter as they hurried out of the Hospital Wing.

"What?" Sirius snapped. He was feeling shaken and short-tempered after his conversation with Lupin.

"You said you were just going to see how he was. What, in the name of Merlin, possessed you to confront him with your half-arsed ideas about his dad hurting him? Don't you  _remember_ what happened to those Slytherins? Or are you just stupid?" James was speaking in as soft a voice as he could manage through his anger, but they still received odd looks from a couple of Ravenclaw third-years who passed them in the corridor.

" _Someone_ has to say something." Sirius elbowed James viciously in the ribs. "You  _saw_ how bad he was. And we only saw his arms! Can you picture how awful the rest of him must be for him to have fainted like that?"

"I thought he was going to attack you," Peter said tremulously as he trotted at James' side. "His eyes were so weird and his teeth got all gnashy."

"He bloody  _would_  have if he'd been in any condition to." James sent Sirius a furiously meaningful look. "Sirius  _knows_ that.  _Popperlop_ ," he added as they arrived at the Fat Lady. The portrait swung open and they climbed inside.

"It wasn't his fault," Sirius said. "He was just defensive."

"I never said it was his  _fault_ ," James slammed into the dormitory and threw his invisibility cloak onto his bed. "Did I say it was Lupin's fault?" he rounded on Peter who looked positively terrified at being asked to make a contribution to the argument.

"I d-d-don't…I d-d-d…"

James waved him off and turned back to Sirius. "How do you know that he won't come and attack you as soon as he gets out of the Hospital Wing?"

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't considered that at all.

"And if you think I'm going to try and save you, you'd better think again. I wouldn't even blame him. You were a right git."

"James…" Sirius sat down hard on the edge of his bed. His friend seemed to notice his anxiety because his expression softened a bit and he came to sit beside Sirius, patting him awkwardly on his shoulder.

"Forget it. Of course I'd help you. I'm just saying we don't even know how he's going to react."

There was silence in the room for a moment before Peter said uncertainly, "What can he do, anyway? He's only a second year like us, and he's very small. Only as tall as me and much skinnier."

James and Sirius didn't answer. They were both remembering the vivid image of little Lupin standing over the groaning forms of his hulking Slytherin attackers and the expression on his face as he screamed ' _Obliviate!_ ' four times.

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"This, gentlemen, it a wonderful day," James announced, first thing on Monday morning. He threw himself dramatically onto the seat beside Sirius and began loading his plate with sausages and toast.

Sirius gave him a dirty look, wishing – not for the first time – that James Potter was  _not_ a morning person.

"Dunno what you're talking about," he grunted. "The sky is blacky-grey and raining, we have Herbology next in the greenhouse the furthest away from the main building so we're going to be soaked. We have Potions after Herbology and DADA after that with a bloke so ancient that Professor Dumbledore must have gone in search of a new professor in Wurblefoff's Retirement Home for Really Decrepit Wizards."

"S'right!" Peter said, waving his fork sleepily and almost stabbing Alice Richards in the ear. She gave a high-pitched squeal and edged away from him.

"What I  _meant_ ," James said, his mouth now full of sausage, "is that I just met our dear friend, Snivellus on my way down here and I practiced that new chipmunk spell we found in that third year transfiguration book on him."

Sirius felt himself brightening up at that. "Really? Did it work? Ooh! Where is he?"

James gestured with a piece of toast in the direction of the staff table where a familiar greasy-headed figure was talking urgently to Madame Pomfrey while the Hufflepuff fourth years on the table nearby sniggered and pointed. Madame Pomfrey stood up and Snape turned around to follow her out the hall.

Sirius roared with laughter when he caught sight of his face. The Slytherin's cheeks were puffed up hugely and covered in golden-brown fur. His teeth were long and rodent-like and his ears appeared to have rounded, sprouted fur and gravitated to the top of his head to settle among his greasy locks. The furious expression on his face really clashed with the cutesy rodent look.

" _Mr Potter!_ " said a very stern voice, making them all jump violently and swing round to face an angry Professor McGonagall. "How  _dare_ you use a transfiguration spell on another student like that! That will be  _twenty_ points from Gryffindor and  _two_ hours detention tonight cleaning out cauldrons with Professor Slughorn. By  _hand!_ "

James assumed a contrite expression and widened his eyes at her. "I'm  _so_ sorry Professor. I really don't know what came over me!"

She glowered at him and strode towards the doors of the Great Hall. As soon as she was out of earshot, the three of them broke out in peels of laughter again. Sirius laughed so hard he almost fell out of his seat and ended up jamming his elbow in the marmalade to save himself. James lay his head on the table and proclaimed in words broken by his laughter, "It was worth it…every last... cauldron." He then collapsed against Peter who fell into Alice's lap, who decided that she would never sit anywhere near the boys again if she could possibly avoid it.

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As Sirius had pointed out rather unkindly at breakfast that morning, their new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher was, indeed, pretty ancient. He reminded Sirius very much of an elderly little tree. He was only a few inches taller than Professor Flitwick, and his skin was so wrinkled and weathered it looked more like wood than flesh. It clung in wiry tendon and muscle to all his limbs, which were sharp and crooked and bent in unlikely directions. His hair was snow-white and whispy, and floated round his head in a way that was very reminiscent of a dandelion. Two bright white-blue eyes stared out of the nest of wrinkles that was his face.

Although he looked so old that anyone walking beside him kept their arms half-raised in case a stiff breeze tried to blow him over, he moved round the school with sharp, rickety agility, the feet on the ends of his weathered legs seeming only to brush the floor because they had been told that was what was supposed to happen, rather than because they really needed to. His robes were even more ancient – with the v-shaped waistband and high collar that marked them as having been in fashion about a century and a half previously.

Sirius, James and Peter sat near the front of the class their first lesson, instead of the back as they usually did so that they could observe their new professor more closely. A few minutes later, the door opened and the old professor sauntered in and looked them over. He seemed to be on the point of laughter.

"I am Professor Tecracken," he announced, turning to scrawl the name on the blackboard behind him. His voice and his handwriting were both as crackly and spiky as his movements. "I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year. Dumbledore called me away from where I've been working in the forests of Norway doing field research on Lethifolds to teach you young hooligans.

"I assure you that I am more than equipped to deal with you, and have been been a professional dueller and an Auror, a dragon keeper and an elder of Wizengamot... at least I was until I transfigured the seat-cushions of everyone attending the 1971 European Summit into whoopee cushions that farted out the tunes to each country's national anthem every time they began to make unreasonable demands. An important thing to learn from this experience is that one of the requirements of becoming an international leader in any European country is to completely lose your sense of humour. Today we're going to work on shield charms."

This was all said without Professor Tecracken seeming to take a breath, although he did break off to snigger at the memory of the whoopee cushions for a few seconds.

Sirius turned to look at James who raised his eyebrows, a slow grin spreading across his face.

As the class broke into pairs to practice the wand movement and  _protego_ incantation for the shield charm, Sirius was distracted with wondering if Professor Tecracken would teach him the whoopee cushion charm to use on the staff table at dinner. His eyes followed the ancient professor as he made his rounds, his dry laughter filling the room as Evan Rosier managed to get through Gorian Bulstrode's shield to inflict him with the bat-bogey hex.

Bulstrode scowled at the professor's reaction as Rosier twirled his wand, smirking in amusement. However, Sirius noticed that instead of discouraging the Slytherin, Tecracken's laughter seemed to spur him into angry determination. It only took two more attempts before Rosier's ear-hair hex was reflected off Bulstrode's shield and rebounded back onto him. Tecracken gave them both a jerky, approving nod, before moving onto Lily Evans and Alice Richards.

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"I'm so  _bored!_ " Sirius announced that evening, flinging his astrology book across the room and sulking.

Peter looked up from where he was sitting on his bed miserably hand-feeding the trumplehoot poppy plant he had knocked over in Herbology. Professor Sprout had given him stern instructions to take it away with him and feed it with little pieces of rolled up bread until the next morning to help it recover from the trauma.

"I know," he said to Sirius gloomily. "This is the most boring thing I've ever had to do. How can it still be hungry? I've been feeding it all day!"

"There's nothing to  _do,_ " Sirius paced the room, kicking his trunk as he passed.

"What? No James to pull pranks with?" Peter said, grinning a little. "No Loopy to torment?"

Sirius felt something inside him tighten as he paused to stare over at Lupin's empty bed. He assumed the boy was still in the hospital wing, but after their last conversation on Friday evening, he hadn't dared to go and check. He also didn't know why he  _wanted_ to check and that bothered him even more. Whenever he tried to push the thought of Lupin out of his mind, the memory of his pale, thin, sweating face leapt into his mind.

He couldn't forget the moment when Lupin had stumbled blindly into their coach, his pupils dilated with fever and his arm crooked protectively around his stomach. When he'd fainted as Sirius tried to help him out the coach, Sirius had managed to grab his sleeve to keep him from slipping to the ground. James had then mumbled a shocked, "Bloody hell!" and Sirius had looked down to catch the sight of Lupin's arm fully uncovered by the sleeve he had grabbed.

It was lined with scars of all sizes that snaked viciously across his otherwise pale skin. But there were new wounds as well. Scratches and round, inflamed sores that looked a little like giant burn-blisters. He remembered the day on the station; seeing Lupin's father press something to his son's arm.

"Sirius?" Peter sounded concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm going out to see James." Sirius suddenly couldn't face spending a whole evening cramped up in this room with Peter and his plant, which was letting off the distressing aroma of rotting pears.

"You  _can't_ ," Peter said patiently. "He's in detention."

Sirius, feeling more cheerful now that he had a plan, bounded over to James' trunk and jerked the lid open. He dug around for a while before triumphantly pulling out the invisibility cloak.

"You'll get him into trouble." Peter warned him.

"'Course I won't," Sirius said. "This is what loyal pranksters do – venture into the depths of evil Slytherin dungeons to keep their poor imprisoned comrades company. Want to come?" He waved the cloak invitingly.

Peter sighed and looked regretfully at the plant. "Better not. Professor Spout would have a fit if I left it here to die."

"Sorry, mate."

Peter shrugged. "Make some mischief for me."

"Always."

Sirius sauntered out of the room and down the stairs to the Common Room. As soon as he was out of the portrait hole he slung the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and headed in the direction of the dungeons. He walked as quietly as possible since it was close to curfew and he knew he would be sent back to his dorm if he were spotted by a teacher.

As he passed the Hospital Wing, however, he was distracted by the sight of a small, thin figure disappearing around the corner of the corridor ahead of him. Months of observing the surprisingly supple and liquid way that Lupin moved (when he wasn't tripping over the hems of his too-long robes), made the silhouette ahead of him immediately recognisable.

Sirius hesitated a long moment, thinking about James alone in the dungeon with the cauldrons, then shrugged and followed the figure of Lupin instead. He knew that James would be mad if he gave up the chance for more information on their odd roommate just to keep him company.

He made sure he followed the other boy from a long distance. Sirius wasn't sure how sharp Lupin's hearing was and didn't want to risk discovery. Lupin walked – or perhaps flowed was a better word for it – in and out of the shadows of the corridors. If Sirius hadn't been looking for him, he would probably have missed the silent shape that moved in and out of the pools of darkness cast by statues, suits of armour and alcoves in the walls.

He wondered where Lupin had learnt to move like that. Perhaps it was at the same place he had learned to defeat those Slytherins the way he had. Sirius wondered if Lupin's abilities had anything to do with the way his father treated him.

The boy arrived at one of the smaller doors in the main corridor leading out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. He opened it carefully and slipped out, shutting it behind him. Sirius waiting a few minutes to give Lupin time to get a good distance away before following him. He slipped out the door and his eyes searched the grounds until he spotted the little dark shape moving in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. He followed, still keeping his distance. It was completely dark by now and he had to stretch his eyes to make out the shape of Lupin far in front of him. The weather was windy and chilly – the first touch of autumn already sharp in the air. It blew against Sirius' face though the cloak, making his eyes water as they approached the more open ground of the Quidditch pitch.

Lupin moved a little way onto the pitch and tilted his head back to stare with peculiar intensity towards the sky. Sirius crept closer, retreating underneath the nearby Ravenclaw stands for protection from the worst of the chilly wind that Lupin didn't appear to notice. He followed the boy's gaze, but all he could see was the brilliantly clear night sky, dotted with stars and the moon that hung directly above them. It was just under two thirds of the way full, but because the sky was completely clear, it seemed very big and bright. It cast silvery-blue light across the Quidditch pitch and Lupin lifted his arms as if to allow more of his body access to it.

Sirius crept forward as far as he dared until he was only a couple metres away from where Lupin stood on the pitch. Now crouching in a tiny ball under the lowest part of the Ravenclaw stands, he froze suddenly when the wind blowing against his face brought with it the sound of singing – savage, tuneful and almost fiercely determined.

He glanced away from to moon and towards Lupin's face to see the boy's mouth moving as he gazed up at the sky, his arms still lifted a little from his sides. If he strained his ears he could just make out the words before they were snatched way by the wind.

_"… followed by a moonshadow! Moonshadow, moonshadow! Leaping and a hopping on a moonshadow, moonshadow moonshadow!_

_And if I ever loose my eyes, if my colour all runs dry. Yes, if I ever loose my eyes, hey – I won't have to cry no more…"_

So abruptly that Sirius jumped, Lupin's legs seemed to give out and he sat down hard on the grass. He stopped singing, his tawny hair whipping round his face as he held his right hand out, fingers spread, to hover over the grass next to him. He turned his head away from the sky for the first time and appeared to be studying the sharp lines of the moonshadow cast by his hand.

He was wearing winter hospital pyjamas and his scuffed, brown shoes, but they were thin enough that when the wind pulled them tight against his body, Sirius could make out every one of Lupin's prominant ribs.

Sirius wondered what he should do. He could see the outline of a thick bandage wrapped around the other boy's stomach through his pyjamas and guessed he wasn't supposed to be out of the Hospital Wing. Not for the first time, Sirius really did wonder about Lupin's sanity. Not in a joking or cruel way, but with genuine worry that Lupin might have something really wrong with his mind.

He saw Lupin's mouth begin to move again and strained to hear the words.

"…Miss you all the time," he way saying, though Sirius knew there was no one around that he could be talking to. "But every time I try to remember the old times, they get mixed up with the new ones. I look at the moon and I love it and I hate it. I  _hate_  it." Lupin flexed his pale fingers which still hovered over the grass, and Sirius saw him tilt his head to best observe the movement of the moonshadow he cast beneath them.

"You told me not to let him change me," Lupin continued, his voice so soft that Sirius could barely hear him over the wind. It seemed to waver uncertainly, even though his face remained as impassive as it nearly always was. "But it's part of me now, and I don't think I can help it. I can't talk to anyone about it. No one likes me and I think even the Marauder has left me. People keep pestering me about how Dad treats me as if it's wrong when I know it isn't. You wouldn't love someone who was wrong. Or maybe you would. You loved me." He sighed and gave a little jerk of his head to flick away the hair that the wind had whipped against his face.

"It was all so much easier when I believed in the magic of the moonshadows." He tilted his head back to stare up at the moon again for a long moment, apparently lost in thought. The hand that still hovered over the ground clenched into a fist. Lupin jerked his head back again and stared at it, his gaze flickering down to the shadow underneath. He spread his fingers again, and without moving that hand, he tugged his wand out of the waistband of his pyjamas with the other.

He turned his right hand over, so his palm faced up and pressed the tip of his wand to it. He murmured a low spell that Sirius couldn't hear, although he jerked in shock when he saw the darkness of blood welling up from a cut across Lupin's palm. The boy waited until the blood had formed a shallow pool, then flipped his hand over again so that the dark liquid splashed directly onto the moon shadow his hand cast on the grass.

"I wish…" Lupin murmured, watching the drips soak into the blades of grass. "I wish for a friend. Yes. I wish for a friend who won't mind that I don't know how to act and won't call me Loopy all the time. I wish for a friend who will look at me and see me and know me and will not hate me for it."

He sat still for a very long time, the drops of blood from his hand stopping after a while as they began to clot. Eventually he moved, turning his palm back up and bringing it towards his face to he could examine it in the moonlight. He frowned a little, then brought it to his mouth and licked away the blood in a manner that reminded Sirius disturbingly of an animal licking a wound.

Then he rose unsteadily to his feet. He reached up and clutched his head as he swayed a little and Sirius tensed, wondering if he would need to catch Lupin again and bring him back to the Hospital Wing. But the moment seemed to pass, and Lupin tucked his wand into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and began to make his way back to the school.

Sirius followed – again keeping a long distance between them – and noticed that while Lupin's movements still seemed to be smooth and flowing, they were also tentative, as though each one cost him pain.

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"Do you think it was real magic?" Peter asked, as the three of them sat under a weeping willow the by the lake the next day. It was lunchtime and they had finished eating and retreated outdoors while it was still warm enough to enjoy it.

"Of course not," James said impatiently. "He was obviously trying to talk to someone he used to know who is dead. He made up that 'magic' on the spur of them moment. It wasn't real."

Although it was a fair assessment, Sirius felt as though the solemnity and reverence of the night before was betrayed by James' rather emotionless summary of it. He couldn't blame the other two though. They hadn't been there to see it.

"It was really sad," Sirius told them, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. "He seemed so... you know... lonely."

"I  _know_ ," James said. "But you have to admit that he's hiding something."

Sirius made an impatient little noise, but said nothing because it was true.

"I wonder what happened to them?" Peter said.

"Who?" asked James.

"The person he was talking to."

They both glanced at Sirius who shrugged. "I don't know. I told you everything he said. I know as much as you do."

"Maybe he killed them accidentally," James said.

They had eventually informed Peter about the incident in the corridor with the Slytherins. Peter's watery blue eyes grew wide as he stared at James. "You think he might have?"

"Of course not!" Sirius glared at both of them. "He loved whoever it was. I could hear it in his voice. He would  _never_ have hurt them."

"It was just a thought," James said reproachfully. "No need to bite our heads off."

"A  _thought_? You were accusing him of  _murder_."

"You're right." James reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "I shouldn't have said that."

Sirius sighed and fiddled with a piece of grass as silence fell between them.

"I've got something that will cheer you up," said James after a while, obviously making an effort to lighten the mood. "You won't  _believe_ what I discovered when I sneaked a look at one of Slughorn's potions books in detention last night."

"What?" Sirius asked, his bad mood lightening a bit as he saw a wicked gleam in his best friend's eye.

"Slughorn left the room for a bit because Peeves was gluing the chairs to the floor of the classroom down the corridor and I looked in one of those books he keeps on that shelf by his desk. I found this seriously cool potion. It makes a person grow parts of the animal his House represents. If we can get it to everyone in the Great Hall at breakfast there'll be Ravenclaws with wings or beaks, or Hufflepuffs with stubby legs or Slytherins with no arms or legs…" He broke off to laugh at the thought of Snape writhing around on the floor like a snake.

"Brilliant!" Sirius breathed, as he imagined the pandemonium this prank would cause. He imagined Madame Pomfrey trying to fit everyone into her Hospital Wing and Dumbledore and McGonagall trying to calm down the slithering Slytherins and squawking Ravenclaws.

"We would have to give it to the Gryffindors as well and make sure we take some," he mused. "Otherwise they'll know it was us."

"That's okay," Peter said, jigging up and down excitedly. "We have the coolest animal anyway. Imagine being able to roar like a lion, or having claws instead of nails."

"It's a really complicated potion," James warned. "And we need Billywig wings and ground Fwooper eggshell which we'll only be able to get from Slughorn's private stores. And then we have to think of a way to get it into the pumpkin juice one morning so all the students drink it."

"Hm…" Sirius said, his mind racing. "When's our next potions class?"

"Thursday afternoon," Peter supplied.

"We'll steal it then. Peter, you're the worst at Potions – no offence, mate."

Peter shrugged. It was the truth. He would have entirely failed first year Potions if Sirius and James hadn't helped him out with his homework.

"Well," Sirius said, thinking as he spoke, "You'll have to do even worse than usual. Completely botch it so Slughorn has to come and help you fix it before it explodes. While you do that, James and I will run into his office and steal the stuff from his private stores. You wrote down the potion, didn't you, James?"

James pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket and waved it at Sirius, grinning as their plan started to come together.

"I can do that," Peter said earnestly, looking a mixture of proud and apprehensive at being given such an important role.

"We know you can, mate," James said, slapping him on the back. "And I was thinking we need to visit the house elves and figure out how the food appears on the tables and where it comes from. You said a while ago that you heard some older students talking about how to get into the kitchens, right? Well, that's where we'll start..."

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On the Wednesday before the first part of 'Operation Slithery Slytherins' was due to be executed (namely – the stealing of potions ingredients), two things happened that made Sirius very happy.

The first thing actually happened to James on the way down to breakfast that morning. He had been hiding from Filch after trying to hex the caretaker's new kitten, who had red eyes and a vicious temperament and threatened to be a great inhibiter in any of their night-time schemes. He'd ducked behind a statue of a hump-backed witch, wand in hand, pressing against the stone hump as he tried to keep as much out of sight as possible. Then, as he tried to peer round the statue to see if Filch was coming, he had glimpsed the word,  _'Dissendium'_ barely visible and carved in tiny letters in the crook of the hump-backed witch's armpit. He had murmured it aloud in surprise and then felt even more surprised when the stone hump moved aside to reveal a secret passage.

That started plans for the Gryffindor pranksters to put 'Operation Secret Passageways' into action as well. The three of them made plans to discover as many secrets about Hogwarts Castle as they could over the course of their second year. If they knew all the secret passageways and rooms, the possibilities for pranking were endless.

The second thing that made Sirius happy (although he didn't plan to mention it to James or Peter) was that Lupin was out of the hospital wing and back in classes, looking very thin and pale, but otherwise fine. He didn't know why this pleased him so much, but couldn't help feeling glad when he observed Lupin sitting at his table in Greenhouse Seven, carefully re-potting his violet-fanged captula fern. His pale fingers had soothed the irritable plant, and seeing them spread out to gently stroke the leaves made Sirius think of blood and moonshadows.

James and Peter were still wary of Lupin, and Sirius was unsure of how to react to him since their argument, so when they went to bed that evening, chattering quietly about secret passages, they ignored the presence of the smaller boy in their room.

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"Add some ground moonstone and lungwort," Sirius hissed to Peter, who was staring at his cauldron in dismay. It appeared than when he  _tried_ to do badly at potions, it had the opposite effect. The hair-growth potion in his cauldron was more off-colour than the others in the classroom, but not by much.

"How much?" Peter asked, looking at Sirius beseechingly.

"It doesn't matter, you idiot!" James said impatiently from his other side, "You're  _trying_ to get it wrong, remember? Now hurry up. Slughorn's heading this way."

Sirius and James got up and sauntered towards the student supply closet, keeping their eyes on Peter who had obediently dropped some moonstone into his potion, followed by a crushed doxy wing case and handful of lungwort. To their relief, the potion went from relatively normal to disastrously luminous orange and bubbling within a few seconds.

" _Mr. Pettigrew!_ " Slughorn said with alarm, hurrying over to Peter's cauldron. "What on  _earth_ have you done this time? Quickly, quickly, slice some grayling caterpillars and add them before it explodes…  _not that way, silly boy_ … here let me do it. You deal with the marigold leaves…honestly, you just don't pay attention…"

Sirius and James crept as subtly as they could away from the student supply closet and slipped into the Slughorn's office through the door he had left ajar. They hurried over to his private supplies, which were neatly labelled and kept in a cabinet against the far wall, just behind his desk.

"Quickly!" James whispered. "Billywig wings and ground Fwooper eggshell."

They scanned the shelves, relieved to note they were in alphabetical order and reached up quickly to grab what they needed.

"…really will explode, Mr. Pettigrew!" said Slughorn's voice, approaching his office. James and Sirius exchanged panicked glances and ducked down to crouch behind Slughorn's desk.

The door swung fully open and Slughorn came in, heading towards them. "Damn register…" he muttered, beginning to shuffle through the books and papers. He moved around the edge of the desk, coming into view. If he glanced down now he would immediately catch sight of both of them and then they were  _definitely_ in trouble.

"Sir!" said a familiar voice as a new presence entered the room. "I think you should go and check Pettirgrew's cauldron again. It's gone purple and there's these sort of smoking bits and wiggling things..."

James and Sirius stared at one another in shock. Lupin came round the table, placing himself strategically in front of James and Sirius, giving them time to scuttle out of sight around the other side of the table.

"Mr. Lupin, please do not enter my office unless you are invited," Slughorn said sternly.

"But sir, Pettigrew's potion!"

"Really Mr. Lupin – " Slughorn began. It was only because James and Sirius were crouched a few inches away from Lupin around the side of the table that they saw the wand Lupin gripped, hidden by the worn, black sleeve of his school robe. They heard him mutter a soft incantation under his breath as Slughorn lectured him and he flicked the wand in a tiny movement towards the door of the office. There was a resounding  _boom!_  from the classroom next door, followed by yells of surprise, girlish screams and swearing.

"Dear Merlin!" Slughorn yelled, and hurried out of the room. Sirius and James stared up at Lupin open-mouthed. The smaller boy turned around and raised an eyebrow at them.

"Well? Aren't you going to make a run for it?" he asked, looking pointedly towards the door.

They didn't need telling twice. Sirius and James scrambled to their feet and hurried out of the office. The classroom beyond was in chaos. It turned out that Lupin hadn't exploded Peter's cauldron, which was a good thing, Sirius thought. His potion was such a disturbing colour there was no telling what it might have done. Bulstrode had been sitting nearest to the office door and it was his potion that now covered most students within three feet of his cauldren who consequently had hair growing from every area the potion had touched in rather grotesque locks.

Slughorn was so preoccupied with calming everyone down and administering the antidote that he didn't notice Sirius and James sneaking out of his office.

"Mr. Bulstrode!" he was saying, as he handed Delilah Kettle a vial of antidote, "You added apricot kernels before bringing it to the boil  _didn't you_?"

"I…I…" Bulstrode appeared to be at a loss for words.

"Twenty points from Slytherin for not paying attention and interrupting my class!"

Sirius glanced up to see Lupin saunter nonchalantly from Slughorn's office. Sirius was surprised. He thought the boy had been behind them when they had come out. Lupin brushed past Sirius and James' desk and dropped something into Sirius' lap. It was a piece of parchment wrapped around two small vials. On the parchment was a neatly written message.

_If you're going to go to all this effort to cause a distraction, at least remember to take what you came for. And decant it from the container he stored it in. He would have noticed if you had taken the whole lot. RL_

Sirius turned wide eyes to James who was also reading the note in disbelief. It was only now that Sirius remembered they had taken the Billywig wings and ground Fwooper eggshell off the shelves, but had left them on the side when they had hidden.

Sirius turned to look at Lupin who sat calmly at the front of the class again, paying no attention to the chaos around him. He was stirring his cauldron and paused to add ground hawthorn roots carefully, tilting his head to the side to examine the effect it had on his potion.

"What the hell?" James murmured in Sirius' ear.

"I'm so sorry, lads," Peter scuttled over to join them breathlessly. "He just took off before I could stop him. What happened?"

"I really have no idea," Sirius said, his eyes on Lupin's back.

When class finally ended, Sirius and James looked for Lupin to thank him, but he seemed to have slipped away without them noticing and was nowhere to be found.


	16. Solving the Secret of Friendship

_"You were the one who made things different, you were the one who took me in. You were the one thing I could count on, above all. You were my friend."  
( Tom Petty)_

**REMUS:**

It was odd, thought Remus – the feeling he got in his chest as he aided the Gryffindor pranksters in their bid to steal illegal potions ingredients. Even though they had clearly not expected his help, and had been in too much shock to thank him at the time, he'd felt, for the first time, that he was part of something special that involved other people in a way that wasn't tormenting him. It made him feel giddy and proud, and when he'd glanced around the office and noticed their stolen potions ingredients sitting on the counter by the shelves, he hadn't even thought about it before he grabbed two empty vials from the shelf, and quickly filled them with the contents of the jars before setting them back on the shelves again.

Slughorn had been yelling at Bulstrode as he grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment to write his message before sauntering out the office again. That was one thing Black and Potter needed to learn – something that Remus had learned many years ago when trying to escape discovery and beating from his father. People  _notice_ sneaking. It was the reason he'd noticed Potter and Black entering the office in the first place.

Even though they had only been here one full year, the three Gryffindor pranksters had become famous among students and professors: among students as legends in prank-making and sweet-talking their way out of trouble, and among teachers as the probable source of all mischief occurring in the school. The Slytherins didn't have any such complicated emotions on the matter as they were usually the targets of the worst pranks. They hated them.

Remus had to agree that even if they weren't good at sneaking or elaborate time-consuming spells, the prankster gang's raw power and natural talent, as well as their inventiveness and bottomless reservoir of innocent facial expressions that all implied 'Who, me?' more than made up for it.

His mother would have found them hilarious - just as she'd always been amused by the Inner Marauder. His father would hate them. As for Remus – he'd felt his Inner Marauder spring to life when he noticed Slughorn entering the room shortly after the boys.

Afterwards he'd been frightened and embarrassed. He wasn't sure what his roommates would think of him butting into their plans. He wondered if he'd assumed too much and if they would assume that what he had done was an obvious attempt at courting their friendship. And the worse thing was that, until that moment in potions when he had glanced up and seen the sheer delight and mischief on the faces of Potter and Black, he had not even realised he'd wanted them as friends.

That night when he'd slipped out of the hospital wing to court the moonshadows and invent blood-wishes had been a turning point for Remus. He'd lain in his hospital bed afterwards, and felt closer to his mother than he had since That Night. The guilt of his responsibility for her death, the horror of what he had become, the pain and the aching resignation that he would never fit in anywhere seemed to fade into the back of his mind as he lay there. He'd closed his eyes and could almost feel her fingers brushing the tawny strands of his hair behind his ear and her soft, rich voice murmuring the words to a hundred Muggle songs.

He knew that the moon had always ruled his life – as a boy and as a werewolf. It terrified him and drew him. He hated it and loved it. It was the source of his happiest and most devastating memories. It was a contradiction that would live with him all his life and, as he'd listened to that imagined voice, he'd felt his acceptance of the fact settle over him like piece of parchment – smooth and soft, but with edges that could slice deep enough to draw blood.

He could imagine his mother now, staring at him incredulously as he whined about having no friends. She would shake her head so her long tawny-gold hair moved in ripples down her back and scold him back into common sense. "Remus," she would say, "it's your own fault you have no friends. People don't just wander up and make friends with other people for no reason. You have to convince them that you're worth caring about. Convince them that under the wolf there still lies the little boy who lived for the magic of mothers and moonshadows, that under the wolf there is someone who is intelligent and brave and mischievous."

And he could imagine answering her. "That little boy died on the night that you did. He left with you, clinging to your spirit so he, too, was dragged away. He left a monster in his place."

But even then, the imaginary Serena would not let him turn away. "You promised, Remus. You made a promise to me as I died that you wouldn't let the wolf change you. You will fight to keep that promise until you have no reason to carry on anymore."

And that more than anything had led to his new resolve to fight until he could fight no more. He would hide the monster that he was, and perhaps someone, one day, would believe that lie and love him for the person he wished he could be.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It turned out that Professor Anders wasn't as easy to deter as Remus had hoped. At breakfast the day after the Potions incident, while he attempted to ignore the stares of his roommates, a huge eagle owl with speckled brown and grey wings landed in front of his plate and immediately began gulping down his sausages.

Remus scowled. He hated dishing up his food from the silver platters and toast racks on the table, and was not amused that he would have to do it twice for one meal.  _And_  there were no more sausages. He reached out and pulled the letter off the bird's leg, already knowing who it came from as he recognised the owl from over summer.

_Dear Remus,_

_If you thought your letter would keep me from investigating this matter, you are sorely mistaken. Clearly the abuse you have suffered under your father's care is even worse than I had first anticipated. He has twisted your mind and your emotions in ways that are unforgivable_

_Please understand that I am only trying to help you. I feel that it is my responsibility, as the only adult who is aware of this problem, to support you and help you to fight it._

_Remus, I taught you for a whole year, and saw no sign of the wicked, animalistic person you seem to think yourself to be. I know what you are, and I know that you have not let it change you. I saw a kind, quiet, intelligent but ferociously independent young man who has altered the side-effects of his curse so that they add to this personality rather than detract from it, and it is for his sake that I will continue to aid you whether you want me to or not._

_Yours with determination,_

_Neil Anders_

Remus felt his hands physically shaking as he read the letter. He kept his expression as blank as he could, but he could not stop the trembling. He was utterly torn. He felt angry and hurt and bitter. And yet one line in the letter refused to let him dismiss the rest. " _I know what you are, and I know that you have not let it change you."_

It was too close to home and it threatened to slice through his defences as though they were butter. When he read that line, it appeared in his head in his mother's voice.

"Damn it!"

He crumpled the letter in frustration, and stood up, no longer hungry. He'd started towards the doors of the Great Hall when he felt a heavy weight land on his shoulder. He turned to glare at Ander's owl.

"No answer. I have nothing to say to that man."

It looked at him through solemn orange-yellow eyes and made no effort to move.

"Go away!" Remus gave it a shove so it slipped off his shoulder, but it fluttered briefly before landing on his other one, digging in cruelly with its claws. Its message was clear:  _I'm not leaving without a return message._

Remus decided to ignore it. He was sure it would leave once it got bored of following him around. He headed towards his first lesson of Charms, and was relieved when the owl left his shoulder as he entered the classroom. That had taken no time at all.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" 

It turned out he was wrong. As soon as he left the charms classroom, the giant owl settled on his shoulder once more with a gentle hoot and only nipped his ear lightly in reprimand when he deliberately let out a deep reverberating wolf-growl in the hope of scaring it off. It followed him to Potions and Transfiguration as well, then settled by his side, stealing his food all through lunch before following him to his next lessons.

He knew that it was earning him stares and whispers of speculation, and Professor McGonagall had given him a very stern look, but was unable to do anything as owls were allowed anywhere in the school except during classes.

Eventually, lessons ended and Remus retreated to the library, trying not to wince as the eagle owl settled on his head and decided to use his hair as a means of clinging on. He stalked to the section on Magical Creatures and found a book on delivery owls.

He settled cross-legged on the floor with his back to a shelf and the book balanced on his knees. The owl flapped to settle on the shelf above his head and watched him curiously.

He was so absorbed in the book, he didn't even notice anyone approaching until someone said, "Is that your owl?"

Remus jumped and looked up to see Black, Potter and Pettigrew standing a short way away, staring at Ander's owl who had decided to lean down and nibble at Remus' hair as he read.

"No," he answered carefully, letting his hand rest on the page in front of him so he wouldn't lose his place. "It's not."

"Why's it following you around then?" Pettigrew asked with interest.

Remus hesitated. "Someone wants me to reply to a letter and I don't want to. So they told their owl to follow me around."

"Oh."

The boys stood in awkward silence for a moment, then Potter cleared his throat and said, "you could stun it. Or put a  _Confundus_ spell on it so it doesn't remember to follow you around. "

Remus sighed and tilted his head up to observe the owl who gave a little hoot and ran its beak through his hair again. "It's not the owl's fault. I'd rather not hurt it. I'm hoping it'll give up and go away. Or that I can find a charm to make it go away without hurting it."

Another silence, then Black took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "We just wanted to say thanks. You know – for the other day in Potions. We could've been in real trouble there."

Remus felt something hot and sweet shoot through his chest and struggled to keep his mouth from breaking into a stupid smile. "My pleasure."

"Are you always that formal?" Potter asked curiously.

 _Formal?_  Remus was caught off-guard. It never occurred to him that he was formal. Or that maybe it was his formality that kept him making friends.

Black must have noticed his reaction, because he moved forward and sank to the floor in front of Remus. Remus noticed that Black never seemed to just sit or stand. He lounged. Remus bet that if he were in a room with no walls and no floor, he would find a way to lounge against thin air.

"Ignore James," Black said, flicking a rude gesture over his shoulder at Potter. "He was never taught any manners. That's why he can't recognise them when he hears them."

Remus felt a stab of nervousness. He didn't want to be responsible for causing arguments among a group of friends, but when he glanced up, Potter didn't seemed bothered either by Sirius' gesture or by his words. He just grinned and dropped to the floor as well. Unlike Black, he was all elbows and knees and angles, and he appeared to collapse like a broken clothes rack rather than settle lazily in the elegant, aristocratic way that Black did. Pettigrew followed a bit later – bobbing to the floor and eyeing the others uncertainly.

"Er – okay," Remus said warily to Black's comment.

"And I just want to say I'm sorry for the other day as well," Black said, a bit awkwardly. "In the Hospital Wing. I know I shouldn't have pried like that."

Remus was still for a moment, the memory of the argument in the Hospital Wing coming vividly to his mind. He couldn't think how Black could forgive him for that. He knew he'd really scared him.

"It's all right," he murmured. "I'm sorry for reacting the way I did as well."

The owl hooted, making them all jump, then flew down to land on Remus' knee. "Shoo," Remus said to it, trying to nudge it off. It turned its back on Remus and faced the half-circle of boys in front of him.

"So are you really powerful?" Black demanded, leaning forwards, his grey eyes bright. "It takes a really strong fifth-year spell to blow up a cauldron from that distance."

Remus flushed. "No. I had dropped some salamander scales into Bulstrode's potion on my way to the office. All I needed to do was say a quick reaction charm and they worked with the marigold leaves and  _boom!_ " He couldn't help his lips quirking a little as he thought of Bulstrode's flabbergasted face and all the other students with hair sprouting from various unlikely areas.

To his amazement, even that small hint of a smile caused giant pumpkin-grins to spread across the faces of the three boys in front of him.

"That's bloody brilliant," Black said, shaking his head in awe. "How on earth did you think of that at such short notice? How on earth did you know that at all, come to that?"

Remus gave him an odd look. "It's says in our potions book in the fifth chapter that you must never add marigold and salamander scales into the same potion if there needs to be a charm on the potion as well. Otherwise it causes an explosion."

"You've read your whole potions text book and we haven't even been back two weeks?" Potter looked shocked. "You need to get out more, mate."

Remus felt his face grow hot and looked down again at the book on his lap. He really didn't understand what was going on here. Were they trying to make friends? Or was this some elaborate prank to make him feel bad?

"Hey." Black's voice was uncharacteristically gentle as he tapped Remus on the knee to get his attention. "That was a joke, Lupin. He wasn't trying to be mean. We're all really glad you read the potions book, otherwise we'd have been screwed."

Remus felt his shoulders un-tense and he managed a small smile.

"Yeah, I didn't mean it like that," Potter said earnestly. He leant forward, expression earnest. "Really."

"So are you like a potions genius then?" Pettigrew piped up.

Remus felt his smile widen a bit at that. "I wish I was. I know all the theory, but it never turns out like I want it to."

Black grinned. "Me and James are good, but Peter's dreadful. The only time he gets a potion even half right it when he's supposed to be getting it wrong."

"James and I," Remus said, before he could stop himself.

James looked at him in bewilderment. "You and I what?"

Remus felt another flush of embarrassment. He was beginning to think he should just let all his blood live in his face and save the trouble of having it rushing there so frequently. "It's 'James and I', not 'me and James'."

The three of them stared at him for a long moment, before they all fell about laughing. "That's brilliant, Professor Lupin," Sirius gasped. "We can't have people butchering the English language like that, can we?"

"Indeed not," Remus said, a reluctant smile on his face. "If you do that you'll get yourself ostracised from all important literary circles."

"And there goes my life-long ambition," Sirius said mock-seriously.

"So can you guess what potion we're making?" James asked curiously. "You said you know the theory."

Remus screwed up his face in thought, absently stroked the feathers of the owl on his knee. "I'd say some sort of transfiguration potion, judging by the use of Fwooper eggshell. But Billywig wings aren't often used except in potions like the Animagus one that helps you to discover your inner animal. I don't know. Some sort of human transfiguration?"

The others were staring at him open-mouthed.

"You really are a genius, mate," Pettigrew said.

"No, I  _read_. And my mother was a potions mistress before – " he stopped, suddenly horrified by what he had almost given away. He felt all the colour that had been flooding his face rapidly draining as though someone had pulled a plug in the back of his head. He couldn't let them know she was dead.

"What happened to her?" Black asked quietly.

Remus thought of his useful monthly excuse slipping through his fingers and rallied as best he could. "Sh-she had to stop when she got ill."

There was a long silence before Potter said, "I'm sorry. Of course she would've had to."

Remus felt a mixture of relief and old grief flood him. "Thanks, Potter." He managed.

"James."

"What?"

"Call me James. Friends call each other by their first names."

Remus felt as though someone had tied a cord around his heart and yanked it hard. It was painfully wonderful. "Really?"

"Well, yeah," Black – no, Sirius said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We need some sensible planning and theory behind our operations. How would you like to join the Gryffindor pranksters?"

Remus' mouth opened and shut wordlessly for a few moments, then he felt it light up in the first proper grin he had given for so long he thought he had forgotten how.

"I'd like that," he said shyly.

"Good," Sirius said and Remus couldn't fathom why he looked as happy as he did. Sirius already had friends and Remus wasn't much to write home about.

"Let us show you the potion we have planned," James said, grabbing Remus' arm and yanking him to his feet so he spilled book and disgruntled owl on the floor.

"I was looking for a charm to get rid of the owl," Remus protested.

Sirius shrugged. "Just send the person a note saying 'bugger off' and be done with it."

Remus allowed himself to be tugged out the library without too much protesting.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus lay in bed that night and was completely unable to go to sleep he was brimming with so much joyful energy. He listened to the sounds of his roommates sleeping. James' soft snores, Peter's occasional grunts, Sirius' sighs – as though he were exasperated about the fact that he had to waste this time sleeping instead of planning more outrageous pranks.

Their scents filled the room, and he suddenly realised that even before they were his friends, these mingled smells had brought to him a sense of comfort and peace that he felt nowhere else. He associated them with feelings of safety and relaxation – away from the metallic, animalistic scent of blood and urine that lingered in his room at home no matter how many times he scrubbed it after his transformations. It didn't smell of fear and pain, and until he came to Hogwarts that was all he had known. And now the scents had an extra dimension – they smelled of friends.

Remus smiled and closed his eyes, but they jolted open again when something heavy and clawed landed hard on his stomach. He couldn't prevent the loud yelp of pain followed by a growl as he realised it was the owl again.

"Lu-Remus?" James – always a much lighter sleeper than the other two, sat up in bed and peered towards him. "You alright?"

"Yes," Remus said, blushing at the concern he heard in James' voice and glad the other boy couldn't see. "Just the owl. I think I'm going to have to go down and write a letter to make it go away."

"I thought it was a dog or something. Thought I heard a growl."

Remus felt his heart rate pick up and struggled to keep his voice steady. "How would a dog get in here, J-James?"

James chuckled. "Fair point. Do you want me to come down with you?"

Remus hesitated. He wanted to accept the offer just because it had been made by someone who wanted to be his friend. But the thought of what Anders' letter was about made him reluctant – especially if Sirius had told James about his own suspicions.

"I'll be okay. It's just to one of my relatives." He hated lying, but his curse had forced him to become very good at it. "You can go back to sleep."

"You sure?"

Remus found it hard to believe that this was the boy who had been so cruel to him through most of the first year. How wonderful that James had changed his mind.

"Yeah."

He slid out of bed and scrabbled around in his trunk for a quill and parchment. Then he crept out of bed and down the stairs. He seated himself on a chair in front of the dying fire, staring at the blank parchment for a long time before he could bring himself to write anything. He wasn't rash enough to simply write 'bugger off' as Sirius had suggested, but he didn't want to encourage Anders.

Eventually, he gave a huff of impatience and just started to write. It didn't need to be good.

_Dear Professor Anders,_

_I've asked you not to keep asking me about this and you won't listen. Please, please leave me alone and don't to send your owl to follow me around school. I am very happy with my life. I've made friends with James, Sirius and Peter and I don't need anything else from you._

_Please leave me alone._

_Remus Lupin_

_PS: Your owl ate all my sausages at breakfast and there were no more for me. And then he ate half my lunch and I had to dish up more and I hate having to do that because all the serving plates are silver. You should feed him more because he was very hungry._

He sighed. That would have to do. He tied it to the owl's leg, let it out the window, and headed back to bed.

"Alright?" James asked sleepily again as he climbed back under his covers.

"Yeah."

"What did you say in your letter?"

"I wrote about sausages."

There was a small pause, then, "Good for you, Remus. You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, James."

And because James had asked him that simple question, his answer was true.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Having friends was the strangest, most surreal experience. His roommates seemed to have absorbed him into their gang with no trouble at all. Instead of making fun of his unconscious quirks and foibles as they had for the last year, they now seemed to be bizarrely protective of them. They scowled at anyone who called him Loopy, and hexed a Slytherin sixth year boy who had aimed a kick at him one day in the library when he been sitting on the floor between the Transfiguration shelves.

Even Peter, who had seemed wary of him at first, had sneakily sabotaged a Ravenclaw's Herbology project after he'd laughed when he heard Remus murmuring to the venomous tantacular he was pruning and loudly questioned whether he spent his summers in the 'Mental Maladies' ward at St. Mungos.

In the mornings, Remus would get up very early and shower so his new friends wouldn't see his scars. He had nightmares about them seeing his body and guessing what he was. He knew that if that happened, they would have no choice but to turn him over to the Ministry.

Luckily, the others seemed to have realised he had an aversion to being seen without clothes on. A few days after he'd sent the letter to Anders, he overslept for the first time in his life. The first thing he was aware of was someone gently shaking his shoulder. He jerked awake and stared wide-eyed at Sirius who hovered over him.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. You just overslept."

He sat up and saw the others just stirring and wandering around sleepily armed with towels and toiletry bags. How was he going to avoid having to shower at the same time as them?

"You go first, mate," James said, yawning so hugely so his jaw cracked. "We'll go afterwards." He said it as though Remus' paranoia was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Remus stared at them feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment run through him. "But you'll be late."

Sirius grinned and tweaked Remus's nose. "When has that ever bothered us?"

"Th-thanks." Remus scrambled out of bed and grabbed his towel and clothes before retreating to the bathroom for the quickest shower of his life.

That morning at breakfast, all Remus' happy relief drained away at the sight of the giant eagle owl that soared towards him. James was the only one of his friends to notice it at first. Sirius and Peter were falling asleep over their breakfasts as usual.

"Hey, isn't he that same owl again?" he said as it landed by Remus' plate.

"Looks like it," he sighed.

"And after all the effort you went to sending your relative a threatening sausage letter as well."

"Sausage letter?" asked Sirius, perking up.

James nodded gravely as Remus pulled the letter off the owl's leg and read it.

_Dear Remus,_

_I am glad to hear you've made some friends. They're good lads, if a bit wild – though you will need to be very careful to hide your secret from them. James and Sirius especially are very bright and will have no problem working it out if you give them too many clues._

_I can see that you are determined not to accept help from me. May I ask instead that you just write to me? I think it's important that you have an adult who you can go to if you need any advice or help for anything. Or if you need any extra healing potions that you don't feel comfortable asking Madam Pomfrey for._

_I am sorry about Brutus eating your sausages. I assure you he gets fed plenty and he is just greedy. I think he likes you as well. He seemed most eager to deliver this letter so he could see you again. I know that Dumbledore arranged for the ordinary plates and cutlery to be steel, but unfortunately, the serving plates have to be silver. Something to do with house elf magic and keeping the food warm and preserved, I think._

_Tell me about your new DADA teacher. I hear that Dumbledore got that crazy old Tecracken in. A genius in defence, but I hear he has a dreadful sense of humour. I can imagine Sirius and James ending up like him when they're old men._

_I'm back to working in the Auror office again, and my new wife, Angela (we were married over the summer) is working in the Magical Creatures Department. So if push comes to shove we have an agent in there to rescue you if it all goes wrong._

_Please write back to me. I'm worried that you have so little adult support, Remus, and I want to make sure you're okay._

_With even more determination than before,_

_Neil Anders_

Remus stared at the letter. He really had no idea what to make of the man. He understood that Anders cared about his safety for some reason, but he could not fathom what it was. He'd felt very reluctant to write back at first, but there were so many reasons he could see for doing so now. He could get more burn lotion with no questions asked and so avoid another issue like the infection this summer. And if Anders' wife would really be willing to break him out of a Ministry cell or werewolf reserve, she was definitely a good person to know. He'd read terrible stories about what happened to werewolves who were confined in reserves.

And if he was truthful to himself, it  _was_ nice just to have an adult to talk to who knew everything and wasn't currently his teacher. As long as he avoided the subject of his father, Anders might be able to give him help and advice on all sorts of things.

He felt a touch on his arm. "You alright there, Remus?" Sirius asked him in a gentle tone Remus couldn't remember him using beofre.

"Yeah, fine. I think I'll just go to the library and answer this before lessons start."

"I thought you didn't want to write to this person?"

Remus flushed. "Well, I didn't, but I've changed my mind."

He was aware of all three of them studying him with conern.

"Really, it's okay."

They nodded and Remus stood up and headed for the library. Brutus looked a little disgruntled to be leaving so soon.

_Dear Professor Anders,_

_I'll write to you if you don't mention that other thing anymore. I would be grateful for some more burn lotion and have put some money for it in here. There's lots of silver around and I have run out._

_I don't want my friends finding out about me either, even if your wife could rescue me if it all went wrong._

_Professor Tecracken is very odd. He does laugh a lot at the strangest things. James and Sirius really like him, but I think that Peter's a little afraid of him. Sirius said I can't judge him since I am very strange as well, but he said it as a joke, not in a mean way. He is never mean to me anymore – nor are the others. They don't care that I'm not like other people. Sometimes I don't even notice if what I am doing is not normal, but they don't mind. They hexed this Slytherin the other day for kicking me in the library because I was sitting on the floor. It was a jelly-legs hex and it was very good. You would have been proud – remember how long we spent learning it last year?_

_Brutus is sad because I am writing back so soon. I think he wanted to hang round me all day like last time. He ate all my sausages again, but Sirius gave me some of his. The others would have as well, but Peter had already eaten all the rest._

_Remus_

_PS: Do you like pranks, Professor? I remember you laughing that time when Sirius and James charmed the Slytherin-banner-snake to belch 'Slytherins have boring hair' every time one of them ate a roast potato and it took Professor Flitwick ages to break the charm because they hadn't figured that out and the Slytherins kept eating roast potatoes. You can tell Sirius and James thought up that insult. They wouldn't listen when Peter told them it wasn't really insulting._


	17. A Marauder's Vocation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to Middle-Earth Muggle who suggested using the lyrics to 'Blood on my Hands'. Thanks also to my wonderful beta, Hydraspit who works tirelessly to pick out all my typos and clumsy sentences.

_Straight from your eyes it's barely me,_  
Beautifully so disfigured.  
This other side that you can't see,  
Just praying you won't remember.

 _There's blood on my hands_  
Like the blood in you,  
Some things can't be treated so.  
Don't make me,

_Don't make me be myself around you_

_(Blood On My Hands – The Used)_

**SIRIUS:**

It had not been as hard as Sirius thought it was going to be to persuade James to befriend Remus Lupin. Sirius thought that a lot of it had to do with guilt. James had been the cruelest of them to the smaller boy, and he knew he had not deserved help when their plot almost failed in Potions class that day.

Peter had been a little harder to talk around. After hearing about the incident in the dungeon corridor and the moonshadows, he had been very wary of Remus. This was partly due to fear – they still couldn't figure out how someone as little and unassuming as Remus Lupin could best four Slytherins – but also to do with the fact that Remus was undeniably very odd. It was Peter's greatest ambition in life to fit in and be popular, and Sirius knew he feared that with Remus in their group, the rest of the school would shun them.

Sirius frankly didn't care what people thought. For some reason he could not fathom, Remus called up a protective instinct in him that refused to go away. And he was not the only one who was affected. After only took a few days in Remus's company, the other two were also beginning to show signs of it. One day stood out in particular. They had gone in search of Remus in the library and found him sitting cross-legged on the floor between the Transfiguration shelves (he never used the tables and Sirius had come to accept it as another one of his peculiarities). Madame Pince – usually so strict about acceptable behaviour in the library, seemed happy to step over Remus as though he were an accepted part of the furnishings.

The three of them were just about to sneak up on Remus from behind (something they had been trying to do for a long time. Remus seemed to have a sixth sense that enabled him to sense sneaking and they had yet to surprise him) when a sixth year Slytherin sauntered around the shelves without looking down and almost stepped on Remus's fingers. Remus yelped and jerked his hand away, and the Slytherin scowled down at him and snapped 'Move, you freak!"

He lashed out with his foot and it landed with a thump in Remus's side. The smaller boy went deathly pale and doubled over.

Sirius didn't even stop to think. His wand was out in a flash, but it was James's voice that furiously snapped the jellylegs hex before Sirius even had a chance to open his mouth. The Slytherin gave a little grunt of surprise as his legs turned to rubber and he began wobbling and staggering around in an ungainly fashion.

Remus swung round to stare at the three of them, who all had their wands trained on the older boy.

"Come, Remus," Sirius murmured, walking over and leaning down to tug Remus to his feet.

"You little – " the Slytherin began, but stopped when James's wand dug into the back of his neck.

"If I was you I wouldn't even  _think_  about hurting our mate again." James jabbed the boy's neck again, making him stagger again on his unsteady legs before they gave out and he sat hard on the floor. Sirius smiled when he saw the anger in James's face.

"He just seems so… not weak…we know he's not weak…maybe…vulnerable?" James said when Sirius mentioned it to him later that evening. They were up in their dorm going over the final potions recipe for the prank while Remus was downstairs in the common room attempting to help Peter with his Transfiguration homework.

"Vulnerable." Sirius tried out the word and found that it fit very well. "Yeah. We know he could easily have taken on that Slytherin with those weird powers he has, but we also both know he wouldn't have."

"Yeah, that's what I mean. And he's so strange. He has all these little quirks, and he doesn't even realise half of them are there."

Sirius frowned a little. "Nothing wrong with having quirks."

"I never said there was, mate." James sighed and sat up on Sirius's bed to meet his eyes. "It's like I said - I feel the same. Well," he amended, "probably not quite the same. You're just freakily protective of him."

"I am not."

"You are, though. And I know why. It's all those little things that make me so sorry I was ever mean to him. You know, like how he saves all his sausages for that bloody owl when it comes. Or how he always sits on the floor rather than a chair." James shook his head, waving his hand as he tried to encompass Remus's odd nature with further examples.

"Have you noticed how carefully he dishes up his food – one bean at a time, like it's a really hard potion that he could screw up anytime. Or how he's always reading and you can actually see him wince when someone uses bad English. And how he smiles at things that no one else finds funny. Or he always stares at the sky like he's looking for something. And he always makes that weird yipping sound and tries to jump away when someone touches him and he didn't know they were going to. Even if he  _does_ know, he stiffens up. And it's like he doesn't even know how to act normally – only read it in books – so he's always…I dunno… looking over his own shoulder to check if he's doing it right. And then, if he sees he's done something not quite right, he looks all scared like someone's going to punish him for it."

Sirius nodded. James put it more eloquently that he could. "It's his Dad."

"What is?"

"The one he's afraid will punish him. I think it's his Dad."

James groaned, throwing a quill at him. "Oh, mate. Don't start with that again."

"We have to do  _something_. What if we had proof? That it was his Dad, I mean?"

"I…" James struggled with himself. "He's our mate now. I'd want to help him."

"Then  _trust_  me when I say I'm right."

They sat in silence for a long time

"What can we do?" James asked eventually.

"I dunno…" Sirius broke off as they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Remus entered the room and smiled at the two of them before heading over to his trunk.

"Alright, Remus?" Sirius asked suddenly, shifting off his bed and approaching the other boy. There was something off about the way Remus had smiled. Remus turned his face away as Sirius came near.

"Yeah, 'course," he murmured. He tugged his outdoor cloak out of his trunk.

"Wait, where're you going?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Sirius's eyes, trying to keep his head turned away. "Um… home. To see my m-mother."

Sirius felt something flare inside him, and without thinking, he reached out, grabbed Remus's chin and forced his head around. Remus tried to shrink away from the light, but he wasn't quick enough and Sirius got a clear look at his face. It was ice-pale and there were purple-black smudges under his eyes. His skin was hot under Sirius's fingers and there was a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"You're ill. Stay this once."

"Sirius, please."

Remus twisted his face out of Sirius's grip, eyes flickering away from Sirius's face, wild and trapped.

"You really don't look that well, mate," James said, coming up behind Sirius and peering at Remus with concern.

"Skip the visit just this once," Sirius begged. How would Remus even begin to defend himself if he was this ill?

"I can't, Sirius. Please – I have to go  _now_."

Sirius let out a groan of frustration and James reached out to touch Remus's arm. Remus jumped and jerked away, clutching his cloak in his arms as he backed towards to the door.

"Remus, please."

Remus shook his head spasmodically. He looked utterly defeated and Sirius felt something inside his chest scrunch up and hurt. "Sorrysorry," Remus murmured before turning and stumbling out the room and down the stairs.

"We can't just let him go," Sirius said, turning to look pleadingly at James.

"What else are we supposed to do? We're not his keepers. We can't force him to stay."

Sirius stamped over to the bedroom window and glared out. The sun was beginning to set and the pink and peach ice-cream clouds that reflected the dying rays seemed to mock his mood.

"We should go and see Professor McGonogall," Sirius said, suddenly seeing the helplessness of their situation. "If we tell her what's going on maybe she can stop Remus from going home every month."

"But Remus wouldn't want us to tell." James said. "You know he wouldn't. It would be like betraying him."

Sirius growled in frustration and turned away from the window, kicking his bed as he stalked past. "Sometimes you have to do something someone doesn't like for their own good."

"Well…" James screwed up his face in thought. "Maybe it's not what you think at all. Maybe you've got the wrong end of the stick and nothing's happening to him at all."

"You  _know_ there is!"

"Well, maybe it's not what you think!"

"What else could it possible be?"

James was silent, at a loss. He could think of no other explanation either, Sirius could see it on his face.

"I just feel really bad," he said, avoiding Sirius's eyes. "I've been a right git to him and I don't want to do it again." He ran his hand through his messy hair and flashed a glance at Sirius before looking away again.

"Hey, I know," Sirius said, sitting down next to his friend and squeezing his shoulder. "Tell you what. We don't go now. We wait and see if he's all right when he comes back this time. If he looks bad, then we go, yeah?"

James gave a shaky half smile and nodded.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" 

The next couple of days seemed to be even longer than they were the last time Remus had gone home. This was the first visit since the four of them had officially been 'friends', and that gave Sirius's worry free reign. He was not the only one affected. He saw the strain in James's face and even Peter's eyes flicked to Remus's seat in lessons, a little crease of worry between his brows.

It was late evening on the second day of Remus's absence, and the three of them were heading up to the dormitory after completing a detention they owed for charming the back of Snape's robes to read 'hundred galleon reward for anyone who can find a bottle of shampoo to that doesn't run for cover at the sight of my hair.' James's was just opening his mouth to speak as they entered the dormitory when Sirius noticed Remus's outdoor cloak flung over his trunk at the foot of his bed. He slapped his hand over James's mouth and pointed.

The three of them crept over and peered through the gap in Remus's bed curtains. The boy was lying curled in a tiny ball at the top of his bed dressed in his usual long pyjamas. The covers had slipped down his back as he slept, and Sirius could see the outline of something bulky clearly through the worn, faded cotton of Remus's pyjamas. It appeared to be bound around his waist. He leant forward and carefully lifted the hem of Remus's pyjama top, exposing a little section of cream-colored bandage. He heard Peter's sharp intake of breath and exchanged a meaningful glance with James who stood at his side. Remus stirred a little and the three of them backed away hurriedly.

Sirius motioned them back out of the dorm and into the corridor.

"Pete, you stay here and make sure he's okay if he wakes up," Sirius whispered to their chubby friend. "James and I are going to go see McGonagall."

"You sure you should?" Peter asked, glancing back towards Remus's bed. "Won't that make him upset?"

"We aren't going to tell him we're going, idiot," James said, rolling his eyes. "But maybe she can stop him going home."

Peter hesitated, then nodded. "I don't want him going back."

"We'll see you later then."

James sneaked back inside to get his invisibility cloak. It was already after curfew, but they knew that Remus would question where they were going if they tried to go while he was awake.

Together they slipped out of the portrait hole and hurried as quietly as they could in the direction of Professor McGonagall's quarters. They knocked on the heavy door on which a plaque proclaimed 'Professor Minerva McGonagall – Transfigurations and Head of Gryffindor House'. James slid off the invisibility cloak and they waited in agitated silence until the door opened and Professor Mcgonagall peered out, wrapped in a dressing gown, but her hair as neat and pristine as usual.

"Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, why are you out of bed and knocking on my door at this time of night?"

"We need to talk to you about Remus," Sirius said. "We know something about him that we think you should know."

Something like a trace of alarm flashed across her face for the briefest of seconds before it was gone again. Sirius blinked.

"Come in, gentlemen."

Sirius and James crept into her living room after her, feeling – as any good rule-breakers would – out of place in an authority figure's territory. They sat together on the edge of a sofa while Professor McGonagall regally took the wingback armchair opposite. Her living room reflected her personality perfectly. The chairs were no-nonsense burgundy and there was a brown rug on the floor on which stood a plain little coffee table. The walls were lined with bookshelves on which stood hundreds of books that Sirius bet were all perfectly catalogued. On the only free wall was a large portrait of a noble-looking man with a neat black beard and red robes. He was currently snoring gently in his frame, and the copper plaque beneath his picture proclaimed him to be Godric Gryffindor.

"Well? What's this about?" Professor McGonagall said, drawing Sirius's awed attention away from the portrait.

"We know something about Remus and we need your help." James ducked his head, shoving his glasses up his nose as he spoke.

"Well?" She looked even more hawk-like and intense than usual and Sirius sensed he was missing something in her expression.

"We think his … father … is hurting him," he told her, feeling absolutely terrible for this betrayal of trust.

Professor McGonagall's expression was completely unreadable, but Sirius got the impression that this was only because it was masking a range of emotions going on underneath. It reminded him of Remus.

"Why would you think this, Mr. Black?"

"Well, you know how he goes home every month to see his sick mother?"

McGonagall gave a curt nod.

"Well," James said, taking over, "When he comes back he looks dreadful and he's sometimes really hurt, and tonight he came back and he was asleep when we came in and we could see he had on bandages through his pyjamas."

Professor McGonagall was very quiet for a long time, then she said; "There may be factors of whic you are unaware. You may be leaping to conclusions."

Sirius stared. She had just been informed that one of her students was seriously injured after a trip home and all she could say was that they were 'jumping to conclusions'? "He's  _hurt,_ Professor! Don't you  _care_?"

She closed her eyes in pinched the bridge of her nose as if searching for the right way to phrase something delicate. "There are things about Mr. Lupin that you don't fully understand," she said. "I cannot disclose them to you as they are not my secrets to tell, and I urge you not to bother him about them either. Things aren't always what they seem."

Sirius scowled as he tried to follow what she was saying and failed miserably. From James's expression he was fairing no better.

"Are you saying you  _know_ about his father abusing him?" James demanded after a while.

She winced. "I'm saying that you have no proof that it's his father and that an accusation like that could have serious repercussions."

"We  _know_ that!" James said. "That's why we came to you. We though you could stop him going home for a few months and see if he stops getting hurt. That would be proof."

"And I  _saw_ his father hurting him," Sirius put in.

This time Professor McGonagall actually seemed to freeze. "What?"

"At the station last summer. I saw him with his father. His father took something out of his pocket. I thought it was a sickle coin at first, but I think it was actually something magical because he pulled up Remus's sleeve and pressed it to his arm – which is all scarred by the way – and Remus's whole face screwed up in pain and he bit right through his lip until it bled. Then his father said something to him and he nodded and followed him out the station."

Professor McGonagall's face was very pale, although her expression did not twitch. Her voice when she spoke, however, was strained. "Are you sure about this, Mr. Black?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Professor McGonagall sighed and rubbed her forehead. "In that case, I suppose that there is no harm in telling you gentlemen that Madame Pomfrey already suspected abuse and has informed me. I tried to talk to Mr. Lupin about it but he was … unwilling … to discuss the matter."

Sirius winced at that. He knew all too well how Remus's unwillingness manifested itself. McGonagall gave a small smile when she saw this and nodded a little.

"You understand that without irrevocable proof of abuse it is impossible for either us, or the Ministry to prevent Remus from going home if he and his father wish him to."

"There  _is_ proof," Sirius said. "His body is covered in scars."

"And what about his mother?" James said. "I know she's ill 'cause that's why he goes to see her every month, but can't she do something if we told her what's going on? Maybe she doesn't know?"

"Mr. Potter…" she stopped for a second, searching their faces. "I trust nothing I say in this room will go any further?"

"No, ma'am," Sirius and James said together.

"Even the scars on Remus's body would not be enough to prove anything. Remus was in an …accident when he was younger. The same accident that injured his mother so irreparably. He was left with many scars. It would be hard to prove they did not all come from this. Especially if Remus himself denies the abuse."

Sirius was stuck dumb. What kind of horrific accident could have caused such scars?

"But some of them are new," James said. "The wounds, I mean."

"I can assure you, Mr. Potter, if there was a court case, and his father  _was_ abusing Remus – which we still can't prove – he would make sure there were no new signs of his abuse. And I'm afraid Remus's mother is in no condition to make important decisions of any kind."

"Well what the  _hell_ can we  _do_?" Sirius burst out. "We can't just  _leave_ it!"

" _Language_ , Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "I have spoken to all Mr Lupin's professors, and they are keeping their eyes open as well. I believe that Neil Anders, though he is now technically an ex-professor has also somehow wheedled his way into Remus's affections – much like you boys did - and writes to him regularly. He is aware of the situation and perhaps he will be able to persuade Remus to speak out against his father.

"Professor Anders?" Sirius asked in disbelief. " _That's_ who Remus writes to?"

"Indeed. Now, gentlemen, I believe it is well past curfew and time for you to return to your beds."

"But – "

"That was not a request, Mr. Black."

Grumbling, Sirius and James rose to their feet and headed towards the door. As James pulled it open they were stopped by Professor McGonagall's voice.

"You know that you are the only friends he has aside from Anders?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sirius said. "That's why we want to help him."

"Mr. Lupin has had a difficult past. I trust that if he chooses to share some …aspects of it with you, you will continue to treat him with the care and dignity he needs and deserves."

"Of course," they said together.

"He could not have chosen better or more loyal friends."

Sirius felt his heart tighten at those words. He and James left without answering.

"What did that all mean?" James whispered as they headed back to their dorm.

"I really have no idea."

"I just – "

" _STUDENTS OUT OF BED, STUDENTS OUT OF BED!_ "

They both jumped at the shrill voice and swung around to see Peeves the poltergeist sitting cross-legged and grinning in the air above them.

"Ooh!" he cackled. "Peevesy  _loves_ finding students out of bed! Especially naughty, naughty ones like Black-nose and Potty! Filch is gonna be SO mad!  _STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!_ "

Sirius and James turned and sprinted down the corridor, cursing as James fumbled to unfold the invisibility cloak they had forgotten to put on as they left McGonagall's rooms. They heard hurried footsteps behind them and skidded around a corner. James's foot slipped and he lurched forward, grabbing the frame of a large gilt mirror that hung in the corridor to prevent himself from falling to the floor. There was a loud, rusty creak and the mirror swung away from the wall on hinges exposing a dingy passage beyond.

"In here!" Sirius said, grabbing James's hand and tugging him in when James only stood gaping at it. He swung the mirror shut behind them just as footsteps rounded the corner. The stood in deathly silence for a few moments as the footsteps hurried past, followed a bit later by Peeves' cackling presence.

They waited for all sounds to fade before breathing easily again.

"Well, that was close," James commented breathlessly.

"Yeah.  _Lumos_." Sirius peered down the dusty, web-ridden passage. "I think it's brilliant you keep stumbling on new secret passages when Filch is chasing you. We should set him on you more often."

"I wonder where it goes" James said, ignoring the comment.

"Well, it's going in the same direction as the one behind the hump-backed witch," Sirius pointed out. "Maybe it's another one to Hogsmeade?" They began inching down the narrow passage, holding their lighted wands above their heads. "Looks a bit old and crumbly."

"That makes six secret passages we've found so far," James said, voice tense with excitement. "Not counting the kitchens. We should make a map of them. A secret map that only we can read."

"Huh," Sirius said, "I don't think we're good enough at spells to do that yet."

"I bet Remus knows some."

Sirius smiled. "Yeah, probably, with all that reading he does."

It was a long winding walk down the passage, and they were just discussing turning back when they suddenly came to a dead end.

"It's just a brick wall," Sirius said in disappointment.

James held his wand aloft and examined the wall in front of them. Then he laughed. "It's a copy of the wall at Diagon Alley!" He touched his wand to the same bricks that opened the way to the alley in London and there was a shifting of bricks and a shower of old dust and cobwebs and they found themselves faces with the sight of the back alley behind the Three Broomsticks pub in Hogsmeade.

"Mate, you truly are a genius," Sirius murmured, staring out at the bins and rubbish littered around htem. "I would never have noticed."

James grinned and shrugged.

"We shouldn't go out now, though," Sirius said regretfully. "We need to go back and check on Remus."

"Yeah," James said, rolling his eyes and flicking Sirius a half amused, half exasperated glance. "Come on, let's go before you explode with worry."

They moved away from the entrance and it closed again before heading back up the passage to the Hogwarts again.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A few days after their chat with Professor McGonagall, an article came out in the D _aily Prophet_  about an attack on a small town in Devon by followers of the rising dark wizard, Voldemort. The terrible things that were done to both the wizard and Muggle residents of the town came as a shock to everyone in the wizarding community and heavier restrictions were placed throughout Hogwarts making it very difficult to slip away.

Sirius, James and Peter could think of nothing more to do about Remus's abuse – especially since even Professor McGonagall's hands appeared to be tied. They kept quiet about the real reason for their late-night excursion when Remus asked, and were relieved when he made a good recovery from his injuries. It killed Sirius that they could only stand by helplessly the next month when he once more headed silently out of their dorm in his outdoor cloak looking sickly and pale.

When nothing else was heard from Voldemort or his followers over the next few months, the restriction gradually became less rigid.

The Gryffindor pranksters were able to sneak away after lessons to begin brewing their potion in a secret alcove behind a statue of a goblin on the third floor. It was a place unlikely to be disturbed, which was vital since the recipe stated that if the potion was made wrongly it could become 'volatile'. Once Remus had explained to the others what 'volatile' meant, both he and Peter were banned from coming anywhere near the cauldron where Sirius and James worked.

"No offence, lads, but you can make a cauldron explode just by looking at it. Especially Peter here," James said in what he obviously thought was a kindly manner. He measured out a spoon of beetle's eyes and added it to the potion.

"But this is boring" Peter complained. "Remus and I want to have some fun too, and watching you two brew an illegal potion without us doesn't count."

"Well, the prefects aren't hanging over us like vultures any more," Sirius said. "We could try out that new passage behind the mirror and sneak into Hogsmeade. I need to stock up on dung bombs anyway."

"I don't know." said Remus. "What about that Lord Voldemort? He's supposed to be really dangerous."

Sirius glanced up from his makeshift chopping board to where Remus and Peter crouched in the furthest corner of the little alcove. Peter's face had lit up at the thought of a Hogsmeade adventure, but Remus's was dark with worry.

"We wouldn't let anything happen to you, Rem." he felt a surge of affection rise in his chest as he saw amber eyes peering over the heavy transfiguration book the other boy was reading.

"I know, but – "

"Come on, Remus," Peter butted in. "It'll be fun."

"James, don't you think we should maybe wait until Voldemort is caught?" Remus appealed.

James appeared to be fighting with himself, though Sirius suspected it was more because his guilt complex rebelled against him disagreeing with Remus after everything he had done to him than due to a real worry about the threat of Voldemort. Eventually he said, "How about if we promise not to go anywhere dangerous? Just to Zonko's and maybe Honeydukes and then back again."

Remus shrugged, eyes down. "All right. If you all really want to."

"Why're you so worried?" Sirius asked, shifting away from the cauldron to kneel in front of him.

"I just…" Remus avoided Sirius's gaze. "Sometimes things… people… are so powerful and you think you can stand up to them and you can't. You take a stupid risk l-like going outside at night or-or-or down an illegal secret passageway and something terrible happens and you wish forever and ever after that you never did it, you know?"

There was silence between them for a long few seconds and Sirius just  _knew_ that James was also remembering the accident that McGonagall had told them about - the one that had given Remus his scars. He also knew that this was a small glimpse into Remus's own shadowy childhood that might shed some light on some of the other boy's many secrets.

"Remus…" he stopped, knowing what he wanted to say, but unsure of how to start. "If you go through your whole life  _never_ taking risks you'll never do  _anything_. Don't you see that? You can't live your life avoiding everything that might be risky just because it  _might_ end badly. Where's the fun in that?"

Remus didn't say anything. He didn't raise his head either. His tawny hair had fallen forward so Sirius could no longer see his face.

"Remus?" Sirius leant forward and brushed pushed of the hair away from Remus's forehead so he could see his expression again. "We won't go if you don't want to."

Hesitant eyes rose to meet Sirius's and Remus sighed, his odd half smile quirking the edge of his mouth as he looked at Sirius's earnest expression. "So serious, Sirius?"

James and Peter groaned and Remus's smile grew a bit wider. "Forget it. We can go. You're right – it would be awful to never do anything fun. My Inner Marauder would die of boredom."

"Your what?" Peter asked.

"My Inner Marauder. It commandeers my common sense and makes me do bad things."

The other three laughed. "You? Do bad things?" James looked incredulous.

"Only you would have named it." Sirius said, reaching out to ruffle his hair until Remus slapped his hands away.

"I have one too," Peter announced.

"Sirius doesn't," said James with a grin. "He has an Outer Marauder and an Inner Common-Sense that desperately tries to make itself heard over the din."

"Sounds more like a description of  _both_ of you," Remus pointed out dryly.

"Well, so what?" Sirius said. "Being a Marauder is much funner than being a normal person."

"More fun," Remus corrected.

"Exactly!" Sirius gestured expansively. "We're the Marauders and it is our duty to cause as much havoc and mayhem in this school at possible. It's practically a calling."

"A vocation," Remus put in, the crooked smile blooming into an all-out grin.

"A what?" Peter asked.

"Vocation."

There was a short silence.

"Yeah," James said eventually. "One of those thingies."

"Yeah!" Sirius said emphatically.

"Yeah!" Peter agreed.

"Yeah!" said James again.

There was another short silence.

"You guys have no idea what a vocation is do you?" Remus said, rolling his eyes.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

They planned their trip into Hogsmeade for the last weekend in November. The potion was finished and needed to brew for two weeks before they could use it, so they had free time to spare. They set out down the tunnel early one Saturday afternoon.

Emerging in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks the four boys headed immediately for Zonko's. It was a quiet weekend in Hogsmeade and they were only ones in the shop as they browsed through the shelves in a state of bliss.

"So much to buy and so little money to do it with," Sirius said, looking longingly from a projectile-snot-blowing handkerchief to a bottle of toenail-sprouting potion.

"I know what you mean," James agreed, his arms already laden with goods.

"I've already spent all my money," Peter said. "I don't get as much pocket money as you lot."

"You spent all yours, too?" Sirius asked Remus, noticing that his arms were empty as well.

"I don't get any." Remus thrust his hands into his pockets, attempting to look like he didn't care.

Sirius stared at him. "What, none?"

"Well, twice a year I get a galleon from an account that my m... that one of my relatives left me. But I usually spent it on parchment and quills and stuff for school."

"But what about your parents?"

"We d-don't have a lot of money." It was obvious he wished had hadn't said anything.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sirius demanded.

"Why? So you could g-g-give me some of yours? I don't take charity."

"It wouldn't be charity, Remus. It would be friendship. It's what friends do."

Remus looked uncertain for a moment, as he always did when the subject of 'what friends do' came up, then he shook his head. "I don't want any money anyway."

"Rubbish. You love chocolate. I bet you'd kill for some Honeydukes," James said. "We'll get you some. We owe it to you anyway for dragging you here."

"You didn't drag me, I came myse – "

Remus broke off as there was a series of loud cracks from outside. The four of them rushed to the door and peered out. Standing in the main street of Hogsmeade was a group of twelve figures in dark robes. Sirius felt his heart judder in fear as a few of them turned their heads and he saw they were wearing white, skeletal masks.

"Oh Merlin!" James peered out the window, face pale with horror. "You know who they are, don't you?"

There was a broken scream and two women were dragged by a spell from out of the Three Broomsticks over the road. The black-robed figures were laughing. Two of them cast spells on the women with the bellowed word " _Crucio!_ " and the women began screaming even more loudly, their limbs jerking and spasming as if they were having fits.

"Are you  _crazy?_ "

The four of them swung round to face the old man from behind the counter. "Get away from the bloody window! Quickly - go out the back door and run as fast as you can back to Hogwarts."

Sirius, frozen with fear, felt a small hand on his back giving him a shove forward. "Come  _on_ , you idiots!" Remus shoved him towards the back door behind the counter.

"Quickly!" the man said, ushering them out, and sending terrified looks over his shoulder. "You boys shouldn't be here at all."

The screams of the women in the street were joined by others now. Both male and female.

Sirius felt his legs spur into action. Suddenly, they were all out in the small lane behind the shop and then they were running like hell, dodging into alleys and lanes, their breaths harsh enough to sound like sobbing, though they were all still too much in shock to be crying.

"Fas…ter!" Sirius panted, his lungs on fire.

There were four cracks of apparition from the alley behind them and Peter managed a shriek of terror even as they kept running. Then he let out another shriek, this time, one of pain and Sirius swung round to stare in horror. Peter hung by the back of his robe in mid air, dangling above four laughing robed figures.

"Pete!" James cried, and the masked faces turned in their direction.

"Runaways?" one said, his voice amused. "But I can see from your little badges you are Gryffindors. Aren't you supposed to be  _brave_?"

Sirius, James and Remus stood frozen as they stared at their chubby friend, suspended and sobbing above them.

"L-l-let him go!" James managed to say, fumbling to draw his wand.

"Good try," Another of the black-robes sneered. "Try it again without the stuttering.  _Crucio!_ "

Peter began to shriek and twitch and scream just as the women in the street had. A trickle of blood came from his nose.

James cast the jelly legs hex, but the black-robe blocked it as easily as swatting away a fly. He laughed. "Is that the best the great Dumbledore can teach you?"

He briefly lowered his wand and Peter hung limp and shaking for a few seconds before he lifted it again and the screaming started once more.

There was a tawny blur from Sirius's side. He wasn't quite aware of what was happening until he saw the black-robe who had tortured Peter crumple to his knees clutching his groin in the same way Malfoy had that day in the dungeons. Blood was pouring from behind his mask, nose clearly broken and his wand had fallen to the floor. Peter dropped from the air with a loud thump and lay on the cobbled ground gasping and shuddering.

Before the other three black-robes could react, one of them was knocked against a wall, hitting his head hard and falling unconscious.

Remus hesitated and Sirius saw the last two bringing up their wands.

" _REMUS!_ "

Remus swung round, dodged one spell with what seemed to be inhuman speed, but was hit by the other. Sirius saw it cut deeply into his side and blood began pouring out. The black-robe let out a triumphant breath and wasn't ready when Remus leapt and slammed him to the floor, grabbing his head and bringing it hard to the floor with a loud crack. The man twitched and then lay still, also unconscious.

The last black-robe aimed another spell, but this time, Sirius was ready and terror for his friend helped him to dredge up the memory of a spell Remus had shown him in a fourth year DADA text book.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " he screamed, hitting the man from behind. All the black-robe's limbs stiffened and he fell back against the floor.

Sirius got ready to rush towards Remus, but the boy was already standing, dripping blood. "Quickly - f-follow me," he gasped.

"What about Pete?" James said, pointing to their friend who appeared to be unconcious.

Remus leant down and picked him up. Sirius and James stood open-mouthed as he slung Peter over his shoulder as though he weighed no more than his school bag.

"Quickly, damn it!" He started running down the alley again, Peter's head bumping against his back. Sirius and James exchanged quick looks, then stumbled after him.

"Where…are we…going?" Sirius panted to Remus's back as they skidded round another corner.

"We …can't go…b-back…through…the centre…again," Remus answered, glancing over his shoulder.

"Where…the  _hell_ …are …we going…then?" James demanded.

"Shrieking Shack."

" _What?_ " James and Sirius skidded to a halt.

" _Run_ you idiots!"

They started again, desperate to get as much space between them and their attackers as possible.

"Shrieking…bloody…Shack?" Sirius yelled as they ran. They broke through the last of the houses and Sirius saw that they were, indeed, only a short distance away from where the Shrieking Shack squatted on its hill like a wizened toad. "It's haunted!"

"Trust… me…" Remus said. And that was all. But Sirius and James obeyed him because he was the only one who seemed to have any grip on the situation, and he was the one who was bleeding profusely from a wound in his side, carrying a boy who was double his weight over one shoulder and still running.

They slowed down as they ran up the hill and Sirius thought he was going to die from the pain in his lungs. Every breath was a struggle and his thighs burned fiercely. It seemed like an age before they reached the battered, boarded-up little house. It looked even more scary up close. Older, emptier, darker.

The door looked rusted into its frame, but when Remus panted out " _Alohamora_ ", the lock clicked and it opened with a bang as he kicked it.

"Get in," Remus panted and James and Sirius hurried to follow him. Remus shut the door behind them and they were plunged into darkness.

"Merlin and Mordred," James whispered. It sounded like a prayer.

There was a soft thump and a whispered " _lumos"_ from Remus's direction and the room was lit with the dim glow of his wand. Peter lay at his feet and Remus was pale and sweating, clutching his bleeding side. "Peter's alive. Just unconscious, I think."

"Merlin, Merlin, we're in such trouble," James moaned.

"We're alive aren't we?" Remus snapped, glaring at James. "Just give me a moment to rest." He sagged to his knees, face pale.

"God, Rem," Sirius whispered, falling to his knees beside him and trying to pry his bloody hand away to look. "Please don't die. Pleaseplease."

Remus managed a weak smile as he tightened his hold on his side. "I won't. I've had worse."

"When?" Sirius demanded, frightened and sickened by the amount of blood he could now see darkening Remus's faded school robes.

"No time." Remus hauled himself to his feet and reached for Peter again. "We have to get back."

"We  _can't_ ," James pointed out. "There's evil dark wizards out there in case you hadn't noticed."

"Not there. Secret passage."

" _What?_ "

"No time."

Remus took his hand away from his side and began lifting Peter again.

"Don't be stupid." James slapped his hands away. "You're hurt. Sirius and I'll get him."

"But – "

"Come on, where's this secret passage?"

Remus allowed James and Sirius to haul Peter up between them. "Follow me."

They staggered after him further into the battered house until they came to a hall with a staircase leading up to a top floor. All around them was a strong, metallic smell, with overtones of something harsh and musky and animalistic. For some reason, it made Sirius's heart hammer against his ribcage. As he and James hauled Peter further down the hall, he staggered a little, reaching out his hand to steady himself against the wall. It came into contact with something sticky. He jerked it away quickly and stared in the dim light of Remus's wand.

Someone else had reached out a hand to steady themselves here. It was a clear print; a print made in old, dry blood, and the hand that had made it was small. A child's hand.

"Sirius, come on!"

Sirius swung round to stare at Remus who was sending apprehensive glances up the shadowy staircase. He reached out a hand to tug on Sirius's sleeve and this close, Sirius could smell the blood on him. It was hot and metallic and Sirius suddenly realised what it was that the stairway smelled of. Remus's hand on his sleeve was small and Sirius found his gaze drawn back to the print. Remus followed his eyes.

"Sirius, please…" and his voice was broken.

"Come on, lads," James said, "Pete's a brilliant mate, but he's no bag of feathers."

Sirius stumbled into a walk again, his mind plagued with images of blood and moonshadows and little, scarred hands. What did it all mean?

Remus led them through a door at the base of the stairs and down a tunnel so long Sirius thought it would never end. Peter seemed to be getting heavier and heavier.

"Wait here a second," Remus said, as they could at last make out daylight filtering in from the end of the tunnel. He made his way forward and leaned out a little way, snaking one of his arms out to jab at something outside. A swishing noise that Sirius hadn't even been aware of until this moment suddenly stopped.

"Okay, c-come on."

Remus crawled out of the tunnel and Sirius and James hurried to follow him, dragging Peter. When they emerged and realised where they were, they went even faster.

"Great Godric, it's the Whomping Willow!" James whimpered, staggering away as quickly as possible. The tree began moving again almost as soon as they dragged Peter from reach. "What the hell did you do to it?"

"No time." Remus said. "We need to get to the Hospital Wing quickly. I think I'm g-going to pass out."

"Come on then," Sirius said, eyeing him with worry.

Remus lead them towards the school, then through a small, almost invisible door that turned out to lead them directly to the corridor outside the hospital wing.

More questions, more questions. Sirius's mind seemed to be whirring and sluggish at the same time.

They managed to make it into the Hospital Wing before Remus collapsed.

"There you are! Oh thank Merlin!" And then Madame Pomfrey was there and Sirius released Peter's limp form with relief and collapsed to the floor himself, the tears coming at last.


	18. Sirius the Impertinent

_Why when we do our darkest deeds_

_Do we tell?_  
They burn in our brains  
Become a living hell  
'Cause everyone tells  
Everyone tells…

 _Got a secret_  
Can you keep it?  
Swear this one you'll save  
Better lock it, in your pocket  
Taking this one to the grave  
If I show you then I know you  
Won't tell what I said  
Cause two can keep a secret  
If one of them is dead.

_(From 'Secret' by The Pierces)_

**REMUS:**

When Remus woke the next day, it was to a violent, flaming ache throughout his body and the familiar sharp burn of pain that he knew came from a deep gash in his side. What had happened last night that made the wolf so angry?

The smell of the potions that had been applied to his wounds was potent to his still-heightened senses. It used to make him ill in first year, but now it comforted him with the knowledge that someone was taking care of him. The sound of Madame Pomfrey moving around beside him comforted him as well.

"Rough moon," he croaked without opening his eyes. His throat was very dry and his voice sounded harsh and scratchy.

"Ralph who?" A familiar voice asked. "Are you awake, Rem? Or is that sleep talking?"

Remus's heart jolted in his chest. What the hell was Sirius doing in his private room in the Hospital Wing? Did they know? Were they going to report him?

And then it slowly began coming back to him - the men in black robes, Peter unconscious, fighting, the Shrieking Shack… Sirius's expression as he looked from Remus to the bloody handprint on the wall. In that one moment Remus had felt his whole world beginning to crack and break around him. He knew it wouldn't be long before they discovered what he was and he ended up either executed or on a reservation.

Remus also knew that the most sensible thing would be for him to immediately cease his friendship with the other boys, but for some reason he couldn't get his head around that notion. He knew that if he could go back in time to change his past so they had not become friends and his secret remained safe, or have it this way – on the brink of discovery – he would never take up the offer. He had friends now and that was something … precious. And irreplaceable. Even if it had only been for a very short time.

"Remus? You awake, mate?" Sirius sounded very worried. He was talking in that soft tone that made aching warmth rise and fill Remus's chest.

"He's awake?" asked James's voice, footsteps approaching.

How had he not noticed they were both in here? Damn the potions with their strong sinus-melting fragrances. He debated whether to keep pretending to be asleep or to open his eyes. It would require such an effort to do that simple thing, but the worry in their voices made him determined. With an effort, he forced his eyelids to obey.

Two fuzzy blurs leant over him and it was a few seconds before they came into focus.

"Oh thank Merlin!" Sirius said, his face lighting up. Remus felt a hand squeeze his wrist. He struggled to turn his head. Sirius was sitting on a chair beside his bed – a wobbly wooden thing that was designed to be uncomfortable as all hospital chairs are. James stood by his side, grinning his pumpkin-grin of relief. Behind them, Remus could see Peter in the bed beside his, peering at him. So he was in the main hospital ward, not his private room at the back.

"Are you feeling okay?" Peter asked. His face was very pale and creased up with worry.

Remus tried to say he was feeling fine, but it emerged as a series of untranslatable croaks that made him cough dryly.

"Here." Sirius held up a glass of water that Remus just managed to focus on. He stared at it longingly but when he tried to move, every muscle in his body screamed in protest.

Sirius wordlessly put the glass down and snaked a hand behind Remus's neck. He gripped him around the shoulders and raised him off the bed a little. Remus couldn't help a pathetic little whimper of pain escaping from his throat. James picked up the glass and held it to Remus's lips while Sirius held him up. Remus felt himself blushing. He didn't like them seeing him this weak and vulnerable. It wasn't safe - every instinct in his body screamed it. But he was desperately thirsty and he clumsily gulped at the water, lapping at the drips that escaped from the side of his mouth and down the glass. James was not particularly maternal by nature and didn't think to adjust the glass to Remus's slow gulps.

When the glass was empty, Sirius carefully lowered Remus back onto the bed. The door to Madame Pomfrey's office opened at that moment and she hurried out.

"Remus? Good to see you awake, lad."

She hustled the two dark-haired boys aside and bent over him, pressing her hand to his forehead and running her wand up and down his body while murmuring diagnoses spells.

"Why do I feel this bad?" he managed to ask her. His voice was still a croak, but at least it was recognisable now. He knew she understood the real question he was asking. Why did he feel so much worse than normal? Surely he'd had worse than this on full moon nights?

"Loss of blood," she said, smoothing back his hair. "Severe loss of blood. I thought for a moment I wouldn't be able to help you. That slashing spell hit one of your arteries and running like you did increased the blood flow out the wound. I have absolutely no idea how you managed to get yourself all the way here from Hogsmeade."

"Had to run."

She shook her head and frowned. "I know. The boys told me."

Remus sent a very alarmed look over her shoulder as she bent to inspect the bandage at his waist. If Madame Pomfrey knew how he had flaunted his secret hideout so carelessly he was in even deeper trouble than he thought. James and Sirius both sent him matching looks that clearly said 'we're professional troublemakers. You didn't seriously think we would tell her the truth?' Remus didn't know what lie they could possibly have come up with, but he felt himself relax with relief all the same.

"That why it burned so much?" he asked Madame Pomfrey as she straightened.

"What?"

"When I ran. Everything burned. All my joints, all my muscles."

"You blood vessels were collapsing, Mr. Lupin. There was no blood in them and it caused friction."

Peter made a retching noise from his bed. "Please don't mention the b-word," he begged. "I feel sick enough already. And don't mention the v-word either."

"Blood," James said immediately, looking delighted when Peter went green again.

"Veins," Sirius added.

"Arteries."

"Muscles."

"Tendons."

"Bone marrow."

"Toast."

Sirius opened his mouth, then looked at James. "What?"

"Toast. He eats so much of it, I reckon it must make up a good portion of his body."

Peter clutched a hand to his mouth, and retched.

"Don't be so cruel," Remus croaked, just succeeding in raising his head to look at Sirius and James who appeared completely unrepentant. "Poor Peter's going to puke."

"Are you really?" Sirius asked the chubby boy, his face lighting up.

"Serves you right when he projectile vomits on you," Remus told him. "Aim for Sirius's hair," he added to Peter.

Sirius and James immediately backed away from projectile vomiting range and Peter looked disappointed.

"Really, boys," Madame Pomfrey scolded. "I have to go and speak to the Headmaster now, so I trust you can be good around my patients for a short while?"

"Of course!" Sirius and James had expressions of such hurt innocence on their faces that even Remus almost believed them. Madame Pomfrey, however, looked unconvinced, but sighed and left the Hospital Wing with the stern glare.

"Finally!" Sirius said, collapsing back onto his chair. "Scary bird, that one."

"No she's not," Remus said, feeling an instinctive protectiveness for the young woman who tended his wounds so gently every month. "She just cares about her patients."

"You're too nice and trusting of everyone, Remus. One day it's gonna come back and bite you and then you'll be sorry."

"It already did. I already am."

Sirius shot him an odd look. "You what?"

Remus cursed himself. Why did his tongue become so eager to spill his secrets when he was drugged up? "I agreed to go to Hogmeade. Look what happened." He gestured rather bitterly between Peter and himself. The movement caused a burning similar to that of a very stiff muscle to shoot up his arm.

"More like we promised to take care of you and convinced you to come and you trusted us and then ended up having to save our lives," Sirius avoided Remus's eyes, his voice very soft. "We're really sorry about that, Remus."

 _Sorry enough not to ask awkward questions about certain things?_  Remus thought quietly at him. No such luck.

"How did you do that?" Peter demanded suddenly. "You picked me up like I didn't weigh anything. And what you did to those blokes in the the back robes... I may have been half unconscious, but I remember that."

Remus desperately tried to persuade his sluggish, drugged brain to come up with a convincing lie. "It was adrenaline," he tried. "Amazing stuff. I read about some Muggle woman who picked up an entire car that had driven over her child because of adrenaline."

"And did she then beat up three hulking adult men armed with wands and then carry her rather massive child while running like hell for over a mile, bleeding from a wound that cut into one of her arteries?" James said.

Remus was silent. He felt their eyes on him and tried not to meet them.

"We know there are things you aren't telling us, Remus," James said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "You know we are your friends no matter what and you can tell us anything."

"It was nothing," Remus mumbled, his brain feeling very foggy, "Just adrenaline. 'Mazing stuff."

He flicked his eyes up and met a smoky grey pair. He tried to look away and found he couldn't. Sirius's silence was even more uncharacteristic that James's gentleness.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want," Sirius said, not looking away. He leant forward and gripped Remus's hand, giving it a little squeeze. Remus tried not to wince. All his joints still hurt – as though they were rusty hinges that needed oiling.

"Yes he does!" Peter said. "That's what friends do!"

"No," Sirius said firmly, not releasing Remus's hand. "Friends are there for each other when they are needed. They don't try and force their friends to tell secrets they don't want to. They don't try and make them feel guilty for saving their lives." He turned his head to look meaningfully at Peter. "Friends do everything to keep each other safe. A friend will carry you away from danger when you can't walk any more. Even if he's bleeding himself."

It was a rather cruelly blunt reprimand and Peter blushed in shame. "You're right. Sorry, Remus."

James was staring at Sirius, his mouth a little open. "Okay, who are you and what have to done with Sirius? If you were going to disguise yourself at him you should have remembered that he's never that girly or eloquent."

"Who are you and what have you done with James?" Remus teased, unable to help himself. "I know he doesn't know big words like eloquent or volatile or vocation."

Sirius laughed. "He has you there, mate. Or... you know... whoever."

"I know loads of big words," James protested. "Loads! Like… avocado and impertinent and irrepressible and delinquent and... and... marmalade."

"You only know those because Remus has had to explain them to you at one time or another," Sirius pointed out.

"Except marmalade," Peter put in, grinning, "We'll give you that one."

"You should put together a dictionary for us, Remus," Sirius said. "The Marauder's Dictionary for Explaining Long Words Used by the Marauder, Remus Lupin and Various Members of Authority During Punishment Lectures Resulting from Brilliant Pranks."

"I think we might have to think up a snappier name for it," said James.

"Are you gentlemen still here?" Madame Pomfrey asked, returning and sighing when she spotted Sirius and James. "It's lunch time. Go and get some. I'll allow you to come back for a short while later if you're good."

Grumbling, Sirius and James moved to obey her, but not before Sirius leant forward and murmured in Remus's ear, "friends are allowed to work out other friend's secrets for themselves, though. And we fill find out eventually, Rem."

Then he was gone and Remus was left staring after him, his good mood fading rapidly.

* * *

"So did we get punishment for sneaking into Hogsmeade?" Remus asked James the next day when the other boy came to visit him in the Hospital Wing after lessons. Peter had been released but was in bed in the dorm, recovering. Sirius was currently held up by Professor Vector who was giving him a lecture on the downsides of locking three fourth year Slytherin boys in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and sticking a notice on the door reading 'Snake pit – do not enter: full of snakes.'

"Nothing too bad," James said. "I think they thought that fighting Death Eaters – that's what they call themselves by the way – and getting  _crucio_ d and sliced up and running away was probably punishment enough. Sirius and I got a mean lecture though. You should have heard it! And Dumbledore did disappointed face at us. I hate disappointed face. Why couldn't he have made weird remarks about my attention span and sense of responsibility like any of the other professors?"

"Dunno," Remus smiled. "Maybe he realises they go right over your head."

"I bet he does. Sneaky old git."

Remus started to laugh, then stopped when it caused a sharp pain to shoot up his side. He felt much better than he had the previous day, but still quite creaky. James looked at him in concern and reached out to touch his shoulder. "You okay, Remus? You're really not looking so good. I was sort of hoping you would have special fast-healing powers to go with all the rest of your secrets."

"I wish," Remus said, thinking about how much that would help him at full moons.

"Well, you just seemed to be coping really well for someone with a giant gash out their side. I figured you might."

Remus didn't want to say it was because he was used to pain. Lots of pain. On a regular basis.

"I don't."

"Well, what do you have? I know you're really strong and fast. And you know long words. What else?"

Remus couldn't help smiling inwardly at the thought that being a werewolf meant you automatically knew long words, but most of him was occupied with panicking about where this interrogation was going.

"James, please…"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I just wondered. And Sirius does too. You know he's determined to work you out. And he will in the end."

Remus looked down at his bed covers, plucking at a stray thread with his fingers. "He won't," he mumbled, hoping to hell it was true. "Sirius isn't great on insight. He doesn't notice things."

"What things?"

Remus didn't answer, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're an exception you know," James said eventually when it became clear Remus wasn't going to say anything.

"To what?"

"To Sirius's … what's the word? Not- noticing?"

"Obliviousness," Remus suggested miserably.

"Yeah, that. He does notice you. It's like… most people in the world around him rush in and out of his focus all the time without him really noticing. Even me and Peter sometimes - not all the time, but sometimes. But you're always in focus for him. He notices everything about you. Even when we weren't friends." James paused for a moment, his eyes flicking over Remus's torso that was dressed in long cotton hospital pyjamas. "He noticed your scars."

"They're bloody hard to miss," Remus said bitterly.

"No they aren't. You made sure of that. I've only seen a bit of your arm when you fainted that time by the coaches. Are they all over, Rem? Or just on your arms? Is your whole body covered in scars?"

Remus felt tears of desperation begin to rise in his eyes. He felt the wolf perk up in interest.  _Kill? Hurt?_ It suggested in the back of his mind.

"How did it happen? Who would do that to you?" James asked. "You're little and skinny and I don't know why anyone would do that to you."

Remus tried to draw his breath quietly, but it jerked into his lungs in a clumsy sob. He was going to die. The Ministry would kill him when they found out. He knew what they did. They whipped a convicted werewolf with silver-tipped whips and then executed them with a silver axe.

"Oh, hey, Remus. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have made you cry." James moved from his chair and sat on Remus's bed putting a clumsy, affectionate arm around Remus's shaking form.

"I'm not c-crying."

It was true. There were no tears, but he was trembling violently.

"Whatever you're afraid of, we'll help you," James said to him. "Even if we don't know everything about why. We're the Marauders now. We stick together no matter what."

"You say that now…"

"We say that forever." It was Sirius's voice that said that. Remus and James looked up to see him standing a little way from his bed, his hands stuck in his pockets.

There was a long moment and Remus's trembling gradually began to ebb. "So how did it go with Vector then?" he asked, trying to force a light note into the conversation.

"I'm not really sure," Sirius said, moving to sit at the end of Remus's bed, while James took his seat again. "What does 'incorrigible' mean?"

Remus felt his lips twitching into a grin. "It means you're bad. Impossible to change or improve."

"Oh. That's alright then," Sirius said cheerfully. "I thought it might mean something horrible."

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_I cannot believe you went into Hogsmeade when you_ knew  _there were dangerous people about. I was so worried when I heard from Professor McGonagall about what had happened to you. I thought you had more sense than that._

_I am glad that you're feeling better, though. I suppose the downside to having friends like yours is that you're bound to get led into danger sooner or later. Just please make it later. For my sake. I would hate for you to die, Remus._

_On a lighter note, here are some chocolate brownies that Angela made. She is dying to meet you, but she says this is the next best thing (women and chocolate, eh?)_

_What are you doing for Christmas? Are you staying at Hogwarts like last year? We thought we might come by and visit you. Is that alright?_

_Yours,_

_Neil Anders_

_PS: All those sausages you're feeding Brutus are making him fat and lazy. The only person he wants to deliver letters to now is you!_

"Neil Anders?" Sirius asked and Remus jumped and scrunched up the letter. "As in Professor Anders?"

Remus scowled and wished he hadn't been sitting next to Sirius that breakfast,

"He's the one who owns Brutus? I bet you only write to him because you like his owl."

"I do not," Remus protested.

"Deny it all you like, but you just fed the fat git all your sausages," James said, grinning over the table at him.

Brutus hooted happily and snatched one of Peter's sausages. Peter began to protest but ended up having a choking fit as he inhaled his mouthful of bacon.

Remus tried to look angry and failed. He was too happy. It was only a week until the Christmas holidays started, they planned to administer the now-completed potion in two days, and he was going to spend Christmas with his friends.

"Wednesday is going to be so fun," Sirius said, belching happily and lounging back on the bench beside Remus. "I can't wait to see everyone's faces as they start growing feathers and scales and things."

"You're disgusting, Black," Lily Evans said as she got up from the table.

"What?" Sirius asked defensively.

"Didn't your parents teach you any table manners?" She stomped off.

"One innocent burp and her knickers are in such a twist she's going to stop blood-flow to her legs."

"Don't be rude, Sirius," James said looking after Lily.

Sirius's eyes lit up. "Ooh! Defending your future wife?"

James flushed scarlet. "What? No! Don't be gross Sirius. That's not what I meant and you know it."

Remus and Peter sniggered and James flushed even brighter. "Gits!"

"It is going to be a good Christmas prank though," Sirius said. "As good as that ice prank last year. Better, even."

"Not better," James protested. "That one was awesome."

"Thanks," Remus said, looking down modestly. There was a long silence as the others looked at him with their mouths hanging open.

"Merlin, Rem. Are you serious?"

Remus shrugged.

"No really," James put in. "You did that thing with the ice?"

"Yup."

"I don't believe you. That was like a sixth-year spell."

Remus sighed and waved his wand in the direction of the Great Hall's door, muttering a spell. Evan Rosier was just walking though and ended up tilting for one very comical moment, his arms making spirals in the air, then landing flat on his back, his legs in the air and his robes obscuring his face.

While everyone in the hall broke out in laughter, Remus quickly muttered the counter-spell. By the time Slughorn arrived to aid his furious student, the floor was back to being stone again.

"It was  _ice_ , I tell you!  _Ice!_ " Rosier was protesting loudly as he was led, limping, from the hall.

Remus turned back to grin smugly at the other Marauders. "Remus, you are my hero!" Sirius said, pulling him into a headlock and mussing up his hair.

"Sirius! Let me go!"

Sirius obeyed, still grinning hugely as Remus came up red-faced, breathless and scowling.

"Really, though, mate," Peter said, looking at Remus with awe. "That was just … wow."

Remus basked in their attention. In that moment he was happier than he could ever remember being since those nights before the wolf.

* * *

Very early on Wednesday morning, the four Marauders, squashed together under James's invisibility cloak and headed for the kitchens. The house elves looked up in bemusement when the portrait door swung open and nobody was there. They peered round the frame, chatting among themselves, then closed it again and went back to preparing breakfast.

The food and drink were set out on tables ready to be transported to the Great Hall. They snuck over and James slid his hand out from under the cloak and poured the potion into all the jugs of pumpkin juice meant for the four houses.

"Some people will drink tea or coffee instead," Remus hissed as quietly as he could.

"Good point," James said, and added it to the tea and coffee as well. His hand hovered over the drinks meant for the staff table.

"Don't you  _dare_ ," Remus said, and James and Sirius rolled their eyes. James withdrew his hand. "Fine," he said sulkily, "But I would give anything to see the very round snake that Slughorn would turn into."

They crept out again with the house elves none the wiser.

They hung around in the library until breakfast time, not wanting it to look odd that they had all (even Sirius and Peter who were notorious for being the complete opposite of 'morning people') turned up early for breakfast. At last, Sirius leapt to his feet. "That's it! Time to enjoy the show."

They hurried down to breakfast and sat at the Gryffindor table, trying not to grin too much as they dished up breakfast. Remus was so distracted, his hand bumped the silver plate with the bacon on it. He hissed and withdrew it quickly, rubbing the burn.

"Remus? Let me see."

Before he could protest, Sirius had grabbed his hand and raised it towards his face. "That's quite a bad burn. Don't touch the plates, lads. They're hot."

Remus was immensely relieved that they avoided touching the plates after that. He didn't know how he would have explained how the barely warm plate had caused his skin to blister.

The potion took a few minutes to work, but work it did. The first shrieks came from the Ravenclaw table which wasn't a surprise. They always came down early and studiously on week days so they were ready in plenty of time for lessons.

The Marauders watched with great delight as around the table, arms sprouted black feathers and faces moulded to form beaks instead of mouths, turning their shrieks into something more closely resembling croaks. Then more cries began erupting around the hall. The Slytherins grew scales, and their arms and hair disappeared. Their tongues became thin and forked. The Hufflepuffs sprouted black and white fur on their faces and little tufted ears on their heads. Their arms became short and stubby.

There was chaos up close as well. The Gryffindors' ears also moved up and into two new rounded golden ones on top of their heads. They sprouted long tufted tails, their hair – especially the boys' – grew longer and down their backs. Their fingers sprouted claws instead of nails.

The Marauders were roaring with laughter, particularly when some of the Slytherins tried to talk and could only hiss.

"We'd better drink up guys, before someone notices us," James said, holding up his glass.

"Yeah. Cheers!" Sirius said.

"Cheers!" the others echoed, clinking their glasses together.

Remus tried not to think of the beetle-eyes that had gone into the potion as he drank. Or any of the other ingredients, really. It took a few minutes for the potion to take effect, then he felt an odd tickling sensation all over his skin. It felt different to his werewolf transformation. It didn't hurt at all. He glanced down and saw his hands sprouting claws.

And that was when he began panicking. The hands were always the first things to change. What if this potion worked differently on werewolves? What if it triggered his real transformation? When he felt the shifting of his flesh around his body, his breathing quickened. He had to get out of here! What if he killed someone? And they would all know! Merlin! They would all know!

He stumbled to his feet, just as he felt fur spreading down his back. It was a familiar sensation and that was when he started to scream.

"Rem? Good God! Remus, what's wrong!"

Remus could barely hear Sirius over the sound of not only his own screams, but the screams of lots of other people in the hall. He tried to back away from his friends, his horrible, changing, clawed hands out in front of him. He knew he was getting hysterical with fear, but he couldn't stop the screams from emerging. The last time he had felt this scared was when a werewolf's teeth had torn into his flesh.

"What's wrong with him? Remus?  _Remus!_ " Suddenly James and Sirius and Peter were there, crowding around him, trying to touch him. He turned and stumbled away from the table and ran towards the doors. He sprinted out and took off in the direction of the Whomping Willow. He had to get somewhere safe, he  _had_ to.

He was faster than the others and soon outstripped them, though they chased after him as fast as they could run. He burst outside and ran towards the tree. When he reached it, he blindly stumbled towards the tunnel, dodging the swaying branches and hammering at the knot in the trunk. The branches froze and he leapt down the tunnel, running, terrified towards the Shrieking Shack, up the stairs and into his room where he leapt to the bed cowering there, no longer having the breath to scream, but sobbing hysterically.

He didn't know how long he lay there. His body was no longer tingling with the change, but he couldn't stop the great whoops and whooshes of breath that still came from him. He felt sick with fear and horror. He buried his face in the torn and battered pillow and wept.

He wasn't even aware of the others entering the room until he felt a hand on his back.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin," Peter was whimpering. "What is this place? There's  _blood_ on the walls!"

"Rem? Remus? Come, this is a bad place," Sirius was trying to pull him up. "There're  _things_ here! There's blood, Remus! What's wrong?  _Tell me!_ What's wrong!"

And then his own voice was sobbing out "I th-th-thought I was t-t-transf-f-forming!" he hiccoughed. "It w-wasn't even the f-f-full moon and I thought I w-w-w-was t-transforming!"


	19. Blood on the Walls of a Werewolf's Shack

_"Secrets are made to be found out with time."_

_(Charles Sanford)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius was not entirely sure when it had all gone wrong. The prank had been working brilliantly: Students were panicking, teachers were confused and yelling for order, the Slytherins looked hilarious with no arms and no hair and couldn't even voice their outrage except by hissing.

Then they'd had to drink their share to avoid discovery, and that was when things went downhill. Sirius had gulped down his spiked pumpkin juice and watched in great amusement as his body began to change. James's already-wild hair was growing longer and wilder, spreading down his back, and Sirius pointed and sniggered until he spotted his own reflection in one of the silver platters and realised that he looked just as ridiculous.

It was a few long moments before Sirius suddenly noticed that Remus was having a completely different reaction to the other Marauders. He was staring down at his changing hands with an expression of utter horror and loathing. His breath was quickening and even in the din of panicking students, Sirius could hear it whooshing in and out of Remus's thin chest. As Sirius took a step forward, Remus raised one hand his neck where hair was beginning to sprout and began screaming.

It was the most terrible sound Sirius had ever heard. It wasn't like the generalised panicked screams of the other students - who knew in the backs of their minds that the teachers would turn them back to normal in time. This was a scream of horror and hate and deep, deep unutterable anguish.

Sirius felt something inside him seem to tear apart at the sound. Without thinking he reached out towards Remus, desperate to do anything to stop that scream that went on and on and on.

"Rem? Great  _Merlin_ , Remus, what's wrong?" Sirius tried to take hold of Remus's shoulders, but he jerked away as though Sirius's hands were hot irons.

As he stumbled back, James and Peter came to join him, staring at Remus in consternation. "What's wrong with him? Remus?  _Remus!_ "

And then Remus was struggling away from them, turning and sprinting towards the door, clawed hands held out in front of him as though they were a potion that was about to explode. The other three exchanged quick glances, then took off after him.

It didn't take long to realise that they would never catch up to Remus. He was deceptively fast as well as deceptively strong for someone so slight. They ran as fast as they could after his dwindling shape, however, bursting outside and following him in the direction of the Whomping Willow. They were still much too far away to do anything when Remus dived into the wildly whipping branches, dodging them with inhuman speed and hammering at the knot on the trunk.

"Remus!  _Stop!"_  Sirius tried to call, though hardly any noise emerged from his burning lungs. The smaller boy disappeared down the secret passageway hidden under the tree and almost as soon as he was out of sight, the branches began moving again.

"We have to reach... the knot on... the trunk," James panted, leaning forward with his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. "Find a long stick."

The three of them began a desperate search and eventually Peter let out a triumphant shout and waved a long stick in the air.

"Quickly, damn it!" Sirius snapped at him, positively buzzing with impatience and worry. All he could think of was that small, bloody handprint on the wall, and the vivid memory of sliced palms and wishes and moon shadows.

Peter began to clumsily poke at the trunk with his stick, and it was more through luck than any particular skills in hand-eye coordination that he finally managed to jab the knot. The branches froze and the three of them dove down the tunnel and into the darkness. They began to run again, fumbling for their wands and casting  _lumos_ as they did so. Three bobbing lights chased the shadows ahead of them as they sprinted towards the Shrieking Shack. Sirius remembered the tunnel feeling very long before, when they had been carrying Peter, but now it felt as though it went on forever.

Eons later, they burst out of the door that led to the shack and found themselves in the same hall as before. The metallic smell of blood and that same musky animalistic scent was like a barrage against Sirius's nostrils. He glanced around wildly for a second, before his eyes fell on that little hand-shaped blood-print on the wall and he jerked his head towards the stairs.

"Up there. Quickly!"

"How do you know?" James demanded, staring round apprehensively.

"I just do."

He started up the stairs without waiting for James or Peter, slowing as the smell grew stronger and eventually entered the room at a frightened creep. He didn't know what scared him so much, only that everything in him screamed for him to RUNRUNRUN! And then, when he entered the little room, he knew why. It was like a scene from anyone's worst nightmare. It looked like the room had once been a bedroom – the old battered bed in the middle of the room made that clear – but that had clearly been a long, long time ago. Every piece of furniture and all the walls were splattered with what could only be blood and great chunks were slashed and gouged out of every surface. A spindly chair lay in fragmented pieces on the blood-splattered floorboards near the cupboard, and it looked like a great animal had chewed vicious bites out of the door.

Sirius looked around wildly for Remus, heart hammering in fear. Then he spotted the curled up shape on the bed, shaking so violently he made the whole thing tremble. Odd little whimpers were coming from Remus's mouth, half muffled by the pillow. Creeping forward, Sirius placed a hand as gently as he could between the two thin shoulder blades. Remus froze immediately, tense as an animal - ready to fight or flee.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin," Peter was whimpering. "What is this place? There's  _blood_ on the walls!"

"Remus? Come on, mate, this is a bad place." Sirius put his hands under the boy's armpits and tried to lift him. "There're  _things_ here. There's blood! We need to get out of here. Come  _on._ What's the  _matter_  with you?"

For a long moment, Remus remained frozen and resisting, then suddenly his skinny little body seemed to collapse in on itself, as though it had been fighting for a long, long time and had finally decided it could go on no longer. He turned his head away from the pillow so his face was exposed and a small, broken voice sobbed out, "I th-th-thought I was t-t-transf-f-forming! It w-wasn't even the f-f-full moon and I thought I w-w-w-was t-transforming!"

It was Sirius's turn to freeze as his mind struggled to make sense of the words. Transforming? Full moon?

Something in him went icy cold and he thought for a moment that his heart had actually stopped. He belonged to an old pureblood family who were born up to their elbows in the Dark Arts. He had been taught about Dark creatures from the moment he could understand words.

"Werewolf."

Sirius knew it was him who had said the word, even though he could not consciously remember forming it in his mouth. It didn't sound accusing. It didn't sound welcoming. It didn't sound like his voice at all. It sounded like a plain, hard fact. As though he had said 'everyone has to die eventually' or 'there will always be hunger in the world.' It wasn't a happy fact, it was just a fact and it was so huge that Sirius couldn't get his head around it. He felt absolutely nothing because he was utterly frozen and his brain refused to register this new discovery.

He was dimly aware that Remus had stopped breathing altogether. His wide, horrified eyes were staring at Sirius as though he were the Grim itself. One still-clawed hand was pressed over his mouth so hard that he cut into his own pale cheek and a trickle of blood formed a scarlet path to his chin.

Sirius still felt nothing. He couldn't move a muscle. Inside his head,  _facts_  were falling into place with great clangs – each one like an iron door closing or a heavy bolt locking across a forbidden treasure.

 _CLANG!_  The room was not torn apart by howling ghosts or horrible monsters, but by Remus with his big eyes and little, plain capable hands.

Because Remus was a werewolf.

 _CLANG!_  The blood on the wall was Remus's- coming from giant gashes he tore into himself when transformed, leaving terrible, permanent scars.

Because Remus was a werewolf.

 _CLANG!_  Remus didn't go home every month. He came here. All alone. He changed and the wolf inside him ripped him to shreds.

Because Remus was a werewolf.

Sirius was dimly aware of Remus reaching out and clinging to his arm. He was scream-sobbing " _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!_ " and blood and tears streamed down his cheeks. Sirius wished he could move, but every part of his brain was taken up with the iron-door facts.

 _CLANG!_  That was why Remus was so strong and why he could fight to well.

Because Remus was a werewolf.

 _CLANG!_  That was why they could never creep up on him without his knowledge.

Because Remus was a werewolf.

He was again vaguely aware of Remus dropping his arm and stumbling off the bed, his wand raised.

" _Obliv…bliv…oblivi_ …" Then he sagged and his hand dropped. "I can't do it. I can't, I can't…"

James and Peter appeared to be as frozen as Sirius was, and neither of them stopped Remus as he turned and hurtled out the door.

 _CLANG!_  That was what Professor McGonagall had meant by 'an accident when he was younger.' An accident that claimed – killed? – his mother, and left him permanently scarred and cursed.

Great  _Merlin_  - Remus was a werewolf.

 _CLANG!_  That was what burnt him today – the silver plate.

For some reason, that fact made Sirius's unresponsive body twitch once. Something was approaching at the edge of his mind. It felt big and blackish-red.

 _CLANG!_  Silver burnt Remus because Remus was a werewolf. Remus's father at the station had pulled what Sirius had first thought was a coin from his pocket and pressed it to Remus's little arm and it burnt him because Remus was a werewolf. It  _had_  been a coin – a silver sickle.

 _CLANG!_ There was a plain brown package on the end of Remus's bed at Christmas. A present from his father. Remus tipped it out and a silver spoon fell onto his bed.

The thing was almost upon him now. It was like a cloud or a tidal wave and it was dark, dark red verging on black, like Remus's blood cupped in his hand as he wished on moon shadows.

 _CLANG!_  Remus in the carriage at the beginning of the year, sickly, weak and his whole body riddled with round burns.

And then it was upon him and it he knew what it was now. It was anger. No, more than that. It was FURY.

"Sirius?"

Sirius turned his head very slowly in James's direction. His friend was slumped to his knees, his eyes staring fixedly at the floor. Peter was beside him, staring too, his mouth opening and shutting, but no sound was coming out.

There were footprints on the floor. Some were made by large, dog-like paws, pacing up and down, but the ones James and Peter were staring at were made by human feet,  _a child's_  feet, covered in blood.

"Remus is a werewolf," James said, as though uncertain about how to react.

And then the red-black anger burst out of Sirius. " _I'll KILL him, I swear to Merlin, I'll KILL him!_ " he slammed his hands down on the battered headboard of the bed and James and Peter stared at him in shock.

"Sirius?" James said, wide eyes and actually backing away from him. "Remus has never done anything to us. I know he's a werewolf, but maybe we should ...you know...talk to him…"

Sirius stared at him in dull amazement through his fizzing anger. "Not Remus!" he said. "Never  _Remus._ I'm going to  _kill_ his disgusting, God-forsaken,  _worm_ of a father!"

James stared at him with his mouth hanging open. "Why?"

"He  _burned_ him! He  _burned_ Remus with silver. He sent him a  _silver bloody spoon_  for Christmas!"

James eyes grew even wider. Sirius was only vaguely aware of his limbs breaking out in tingling pins and needles as the potion wore off and his body began to return to normal.

"I'll help you," Peter said tentatively from where he crouched beside James, looking ridiculous as his hair shrunk back into his chubby head.

"What?"

"I'll help you kill him."

"Me too," James said, his eyes going from wide to blazing.

Oddly, the sight of their anger seemed to calm Sirius's down to a smouldering heat in his chest.

"No, not yet. Let's go find Remus first. He ran off."

Peter looked around the room in something like dawning horror, taking in the blood-splatters and slashed furniture. "Remus did all this?"

"The  _wolf_ inside Remus did all this," James said grimly. "He couldn't help it. My dad was telling me about werewolves once. They lose all their human sanity and mind when they transform. That's why he must come here. So he doesn't hurt anyone.  _That's_ why he was so bloody scared when he thought he was transforming in the Great Hall."

"Let's go find him," Sirius said.

They made their way back to the school, slipping in though the hidden door that led to the corridor outside the Hospital Wing. The last of the students suffering from the potion changes were being shooed back to their common rooms by Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall spotted them first and stormed over. " _What_ have you done?" she demanded furiously, glaring at the three of them.

Sirius stared at her in genuine confusion for a long moment. The prank now seemed so long ago it seemed to have slipped from his mind entirely for a moment. "What?"

"Are  _you_ responsible for all of this?"

She looked so utterly furious that Sirius knew that admitting to doing the prank right now would be a one-way ticket out of Hogwarts.

"What?" he said again. "No! We're looking for Remus! He ran off somewhere."

This only seemed to make her even more angry. Her mouth pressed into the thinnest, tightest line and the three of them actually took a step back. "He went  _home_!" she snapped. "Came running in here like all the hounds of hell were after him and demanded to go home for Christmas. He flooed out of the Hospital Wing a few minutes ago."

Sirius was so horrified he couldn't even speak. He could only stand frozen for the second time that evening staring at her as though she might suddenly burst out laughing and say, "Had you going there!"

Eventually it was James's strangled voice that spoke. "And you let him  _go_?"

"We've  _been_ through this, Mr. Potter. We can't do anything to stop him if he wants to go. Now kindly explain to me what on earth is going on." She gestured them into the Hospital Wing and the three of them sat on a bed in a line facing her.

And oddly, it was Peter who began speaking. The chubby little Marauder may not have been brilliant at school or inspired when it came to thinking up original pranks, but he was, Sirius had to admit, pretty awesome when it came to concocting believable stories. They all knew they couldn't let McGonagall know they knew about Remus's secret.

"We were in the hall and started to change," Peter said meekly. "It felt really weird and when we realised what was going on we thought it was quite funny. We were prepared to... you know... go up and shake the hand of whoever thought up the prank. Then Remus started going all weird. He was staring at his hands changing and when his hair started to grow down his back he started screaming and screaming. He turned and ran away, and we haven't been able to find him. We've looked everywhere and we were really worried."

Professor McGonagall was staring at them and Sirius actually saw belief in her eyes as well as dawning horror as she realised what must have upset Remus so much. Peter had mixed just the right amount of truth and fiction.

"Please get him back, Professor," Sirius said, and was rather horrified to hear his own voice so pathetic. "You don't know what his father does to him."

"Nor do you, Mr. Black."

Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it again when he realised he couldn't admit to knowing about Remus's silver burns.

"We have to get him back," James said. "You  _know_ his father hurts him!"

"There are factors you aren't aware of," Professor McGonagall said grimly. "We can't just go to the Ministry and tell them our suspicions."

And suddenly Sirius realised  _why_. Remus was a werewolf. His scars – especially the bite scar - would be very distinctive. As soon as the Ministry knew what he was, he would not only be punished for breaking the rules about Dark creatures being educated at Hogwarts, but they would always rule in favour of whatever his father felt 'necessary' to do to control his werewolf son. They all believed that all werewolves were vicious, wild creatures with no humanity.

 _You did too_ , a voice in his head said.  _You thought that too until you knew Remus was one. Had it been anyone but Remus or James or Peter would you have acted any differently?_

So the Ministry weren't going to be able to help. Sirius's mind raced and arrived at a new idea so suddenly he almost jumped.

"Let's go, lads," he said to Peter and James, standing up and shoving past Professor McGonagall.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"To write Remus a letter begging him to come back," Sirius said.

Her face softened. "Please do."

The others followed him out and they hurried down the corridor.

"I know you've got an idea, Sirius Black," James said, looking at him pointedly as they arrived and climbed in the portrait hole. "What is it?"

"I  _am_ going to write to Remus," Sirius said. "I want to tell him we don't care that he's a werewolf. I wish I had said it straight away, but I just seemed all frozen up and I couldn't move."

James sighed and nodded. "Me too."

"And me," Peter said.

"Then I'm going to write to Professor Anders," Sirius said.

"Anders?" James frowned in confusion. "Why?"

They arrived at their dorm and Sirius went over to his trunk, trying to ignore the absence of Remus's from the end of his bed. He began pulling out parchment and quills.

"He's an Auror. He likes Remus. He knows he's a werewolf  _and_ he suspects he's being abused. He has contacts with the Ministry and big fighting people who could beat up Remus's dad to rescue him. And if all else fails, maybe he can persuade Remus to come back here on his own for Christmas."

James and Peter thought it over as Sirius began the letter to Remus.

"It's a good idea, mate," James said eventually. "But we must tell the owl we're sending to Remus to  _only_ deliver to him. We don't want his Dad getting hold of the letter."

* * *

_Dear Professor Anders,_

_You will most likely remember us from last year (we're hard to forget) or from Remus. We have some really bad news about Remus. We pulled this prank where we spiked everyone's juice with potion to change them into bits of their house animal. It went fine at first, but then Remus started panicking and screaming. He ran to the Shrieking Shack and we followed him._

_He was scared he was transforming. We know he's a werewolf now, but we were so shocked that we didn't get a chance to tell him we didn't mind and he ran away and when we got back to school he had gone home._

_You have to help us rescue him, Professor. His father burns him with SILVER. He sent him a silver spoon last Christmas as a present and Sirius saw him burning him with a sickle on the station. We don't know what else to do. We've sent a letter to Remus to tell him we don't mind, but we don't know if he'll get it. We told the owl not to give it to his father._

_Please help us. We know you like Remus and he likes you too. And he always saves his sausages for your owl._

_Please,_

_Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew._

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_We're so sorry about what happened today. You should have said if you didn't want to take the potion, even if you didn't want to tell us why. We would have thought of something._

_Please believe us when we say we don't care that you're a werewolf, and that we promise never to tell anyone. You're still the same clever, funny, brilliant prank-pulling Marauder you always were. We're sorry we didn't tell you at the Shack. We were just so shocked._

_Please, please come back to school. We're so worried about you and we want you here so we can look after you like we promised. Sirius says he will buy you that giant box of Honeydukes chocolate he saw you eyeing up in the shop window if you come back. He says he won't even sneak into Hogsmeade to get it, but will order it like a normal person._

_Please come back. We told you we would be your friends and you could tell us anything. It wasn't a lie. You can._

_Your friends, the Marauders,_

_Sirius, James and Peter_


	20. The Burn of a Father's Jealousy

_Who knows what true loneliness is - not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion._

_(Joseph Conrad)_

**REMUS:**

As Remus stumbled down the tunnel that led back to the entrance of the Whomping Willow, he actually thought that he might be dying. His vision was blurry, his legs were shaking violently, his stomach churned and he found that no matter how heavy his breaths were, none of them seemed to be reaching his lungs.

All he could see in his mind's eye were the faces of his friends, frozen with horror, revulsion and fear as they realised what he was. When he had heard Sirius whisper; "werewolf" it was as if someone had reached down his throat, grabbed his heart in clawed hands and dragged it up to lodge in his throat.

Remus had tried to tell them how sorry he was, how repulsed by himself he was, how he regretted leading them into thinking he was an ordinary person rather than a vile Dark creature. And none of them – not even Sirius, onto whose arm he had been clinging – had even moved a muscle; just stood staring and blank-eyed as Remus choked on his own heart.

And he was weak – so very, very weak. He hadn't been able to  _obliviate_  them, couldn't bring himself to tamper with their memories, even though he knew that in failing to do so he was effectively sentencing himself to death.

He wondered briefly how long he would stay conscious under a flaying with silver-tipped whips. Did they keep waking you up if you blacked out? Did they give you a potion to prevent you from doing so? He remembered fainting after some of his father's more vigorous silver-burn punishments in the past and knew he wouldn't last long without some kind of magical aid. Would he even feel the beheading with the silver axe?

He had reached the entrance now, but the thought of the axe-blade slicing into the skin of his neck drove him to his knees and he vomited and vomited until he was coughing up black bile, stomach muscles spasming and aching.

Remus knew that he was in serious trouble. He knew that it was imperative that he attempted to protect himself from what the Ministry would do to him when they found out what he was. He needed someone who would hide him from them – who felt no loyalty to them. He needed someone who knew what he was, how evil and repulsive he was and would protect him anyway.

_Dad._

The answer came to him in a blurry rush of inspiration while coloured blobs danced in front of his eyes as he tried to stand. His father would hide him. For the love of his beloved wife, his father would hide him, even though he knew everything Remus was.

The new realisation gave him strength and he dragged himself to his feet, reaching out an arm to hammer on the knot of the tree before once more stumbling in the direction of the school.

When he burst through the door that led to the Hospital Wing corridor, he was confronted by the sight of crowds of transfigured students, hissing, squawking, flapping, prowling and all struggling to get into the hospital wing. Some of them were uttering laughs of relief as the effects of the potion began to wear off and fur, feathers and scales began to recede. Remus felt his own body begin to tingle again and clamped down on his instinctive terror as he spotted Professor McGonagall heading towards him. He clung to the doorframe as he watched her approach through blurry eyes.

"Mr. Lupin? Good Godric! What happened to you?"

"I n-need to get h-h-home."

"What?" She blinked. "You can't leave the school until the holidays which are in two days. Besides, you've put your name down to stay here."

"I need to g-g-go home, please." Remus stood up a little straighter as he felt desperation rush through him. The wolf stirred in interest and peered through is eyes. He saw McGonagall take an instinctive step back.

"Please control yourself, Mr. Lupin!"

"Home. Now." The effect of his sickness, horror, fear and the wolf rendered him incapable of forming full sentences and he felt his lips draw back from his teeth in warning.

"But you – "

"Home!"

She sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead and glancing round at the milling students behind her. Then she turned back to him and he saw her eyes flick over him, pausing on his vomit-splattered robe, pale, shaking hands, sweaty face. Whatever it was she saw there made her thin lips get even thinner.

"Very well. I can't stop you if you truly want to go. I'll get a house elf to bring your things. You can floo out from the Hospital Wing.

Remus felt a tremor of relief run through him and the wolf backed away a little. "Thank you."

"What's this about, Remus?" she asked gently.

"I just need to get home right now."  _Before the others get over their shock and fear and the Ministry come for me_ _._

He was ushered into the Hospital Wing and towards the fireplace, glad that Madame Pomfrey was too distracted by her many patients to notice him. It was only a few minutes before his trunk appeared beside him, but every second he waited, Remus was sure that the door was going to burst open and Sirius, James and Peter would be standing there. He could see it vividly in his mind's eye: the betrayal on their faces, the fear and hatred. And he couldn't find it in his heart to blame them. He knew what he was. They had every right to be afraid.

"Mr. Lupin?" He looked up to see McGonagall standing in from of him, a pot of floo powder in her hands. "Are you sure you want to do this? Why don't we go to my office for a few minutes and just talk about what's upsetting you?"

He shook his head silently, flicking a nervous glance to the doors of the ward. He held out his hand and she reluctantly poured a little powder into it.

He stepped into the fireplace. "Tembleton Cottage!"

The flames engulfed him.

* * *

When he stumbled out of the living room fire, he looked up to see his father staring at him over a newspaper with an expression of shock, disgust and loathing.

"What the  _hell_ do you think you're doing here? Get back to that school immediately!"

"Dad, I think someone found out about me. I think they're going to go the Ministry."

Remus felt himself begin to tremble at the expression on his father's face as John Lupin stood up and approached him. He stood in front of Remus, just looking for a few long seconds before his fist came. Remus didn't even try to duck it. He knew better. White pain exploded as the fist connected with his jaw and he felt his body slam back against the fireplace. He wished more than anything that he could give up his strength and speed in favour of super-healing powers or invulnerability. A boot connected with his side, making him curl up in pain.

"Idiot, stupid, disgusting creature!" He father spat as he kicked and kicked. "You only exist to curse me with your presence!" John Lupin reached out and grabbed the silver poker from beside the fire. Remus felt his school robes shoved aside and howled in pain as he felt the poker pressed to his back.

"Animal! Animal! Revolting, dirty animal!" The poker was lifted and pressed again. Remus was growling, whimpering, howling as the poker burned and burned and burned. "Now I have to protect you and hide you! For her!  _For Her!_  Even though the very  _sight_ of you makes me sick!"

The hatred in his father's voice burned into Remus even more cruelly than the silver poker. He heard it distantly through his pain, and some part of him deep inside shriveled up and disintegrated. He knew that if his own father could feel that level of loathing for him, there was no chance that people who had no obligation to care for him would feel any different. The tiniest spark hope that he had wrongly judged his friends' reactions burnt out from where he had been nursing it near his heart.

It had all been a farce. He wasn't noble or clever or funny. He wasn't a Marauder or a Gryffindor or even a person. This man knew exactly what he was and Remus felt vaguely gratified that his father didn't hide the fact from him as everyone else tried to do. He gave in and allowed himself to drown in the pain.

* * *

Remus didn't know how long he had been locked in his room in the basement. It could have been days, or weeks or even months. There was no window here and he had no way of knowing. He didn't care either way. He barely had enough strength to pull himself towards the self-emptying chamber pot on the floor beside his bed, or to eat the little amounts of food that appeared magically on his bedside table every once in a while.

The only times his situation changed was when he heard the heavy oak dresser being moved away from where it obscured the entrance to his room in case anyone from the Ministry came to try and find him. If they came, John Lupin would tell them Remus had knocked him out and run away as soon as he had left Hogwarts.

Remus hated the sound of the dresser being moved. It meant another round of rants, beatings and silver burns as punishment for the position he had placed his father in. He no longer had the strength to howl and when he was burnt, could only whine and whimper pitifully. He sometimes dragged himself out of bed and into the corner in an effort to escape the punishment, even though he knew it was useless. He wondered vaguely if silver-tipped whips and beheading would actually have been worse than this. At least it would have been quicker.

A full moon came and went and the wounds he suffered were terrible. He could only be glad his trunk was down here with him and that there were bandages and a few healing potions inside that helped a bit. As he was digging through it he caught a glimpse of three battered boxes of sweets that had seen better days. The Christmas presents from last year that he had finally discovered had come from James and Sirius.

He pulled them out, and for a moment was tempted to tear them apart and gulp down their contents hungrily. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, and instead dragged them up with him onto his bed. They had cared enough when they had given them to him. They had cared enough then.

And that was enough for now.


	21. Finding Remus

_Friends are the family we choose for ourselves_.

(Edna Buchanan)

**SIRIUS:**

When the school owl returned with Remus' letter unread and untouched, Sirius knew that something was very wrong. Either Remus had ignored the owl completely – unlikely since they had told the owl to peck Remus until he removed the letter and read it - or it had not been able to reach him.

"What do we do now?" James asked, staring at the unopened letter on the Gryffindor table in front of him.

"Go and tell McGonagall," Sirius said. "See if she can do something. Anything from Anders yet?"

James shook his head. "It's been almost two weeks. Why hasn't he answered?"

Sirius shrugged, defeated. "Let's go see McGonagall after breakfast."

"What'll she be able to do?" Peter asked. "I thought she said she couldn't do anything."

"We have to do  _something!_ " Sirius burst out. "He could be in there in pain and we're all just sitting here! It's Christmas in two days. I wanted to give him my present."

"Relax, mate," James said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "We'll go after breakfast, yeah?"

Sirius hadn't felt less hungry in his life. He sat and scowled and fidgeted in his seat until James let out an impatient sigh and stood up. "Let's go then."

Peter let out a muffled noise of protest as he stuffed the rest of his blueberry muffin into his mouth and jumped up to follow them. "I aggen inish gy reakast!" he said around his bulging cheeks.

"Sorry, Pete," James said, stepping out of the way of the showering crumbs with practiced ease. "I don't speak chipmunk. Though Snivellus might be able to give me lessons."

Sirius was too worried even to snigger at the remark. Peter gave him a searching glance before swallowing with difficulty and saying, "I  _said_ , I hadn't finished my breakfast."

"Well Sirius was about to explode," James said. "It probably wouldn't have been pretty."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, he turned the corner and crashed directly into someone a fair bit larger than him, rebounding back into James and Peter. The three of them found themselves in a painful tangle of limbs while two worried faces peered at them.

"Sorry, lads," said a familiar voice. "I didn't see you coming."

At the sound of the voice, Sirius sat up very quickly, ignoring the fact that his elbow made contact with Peter's nose in the process. "Professor Anders?"

Their ex-professor stood over them, looking as boyish as usual, though his face held strain that hadn't been there the year before. Beside him stood a woman of about the same age – perhaps in her early thirties. She had white-blonde hair set in rather ridiculous frothy curls on top of her head and wide dark blue eyes.

"Sirius?" Anders looked very relieved to see them. "I got your letter. I was on assignment and it was waiting for me when I got home. We came here as soon as I read it."

Sirius looked suspiciously at the woman. He didn't want Remus' secrets to be spread to an unknown person. "Who's she?"

"Sirius!" Peter hissed, aiming an elbow at his ribs.

Neither Anders or the woman looked particularly upset by his rudeness, though. In fact, Anders smiled a little. "This is my wife, Angela. She knows about Remus."

The three boys scrambled to their feet. "Are you going to go and rescue Remus?" Sirius demanded.

"We're going to do our best. We were just on our way to see Professor McGonagall."

"Us too," said James, taking charge. "You can come along if you like."

"Um…perhaps it would be best if you waited until we'd discussed it?" Anders said, looking a bit alarmed.

"No way." Sirius drew himself up to his full height and glowered.

"He's  _our_ friend," Peter said stubbornly. "You wouldn't even be here if we hadn't written you that letter."

Anders looked like he was going to protest again, but Angela placed a calming hand on his arm. "Let them come, love. Maybe they can help."

"They're just boys."

"We are  _not,_ " Sirius said indignantly. "We're Marauders! And we're going to rescue Remus and we might let you help."

Anders sighed, and Sirius could see him coming to the conclusion that any escape plan they concocted would be a lot safer if it were tempered by adult advice. "Very well. Come with us."

The Marauders smugly trailed Anders and Angela down the corridor and in the direction of McGonagall's office.

Professor McGonagall didn't look very surprised to see Anders and his wife turning up at her door. She did frown in question when she spotted Sirius, James and Remus, though.

"Aren't you boys supposed to be at breakfast?"

"We were coming to talk to you about Remus," Sirius said, radiating his best pure-blood-brat confidence. "We said Professor Anders and his wife could come along."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Anders who shrugged a little helplessly.

"What's this about Remus, Mr. Black?"

Sirius glanced at the other Marauders, and James stepped forward, holding up the letter they had send to Remus. "It came back. The letter we sent him. It didn't even reach him. We're worried something has happened to him."

McGonagall sighed and stepped away from the door a little, allowing them to enter, and motioning Anders and Angela towards the seats in front of her desk. She waved her wand and transfigured a piece of parchment into a bench for Sirius, James and Peter.

"I'm afraid there's not much I can do," she said, once they were all settled.

"But you haven't done  _anything_!" Sirius said, feeling a flash of anger and helpless frustration.

" _Manners_ Mr. Black, or I will not include you in this discussion."

Sirius slouched down on the bench and glowered at her.

"Contrary to what you seem to believe, Poppy Pomfrey and I went to Mr. Lupin's house a week ago with the excuse that we wanted to check Remus' health seeing as he was very upset when he left."

Sirius sat up and stared at her. "And?"

"Was he okay?" Peter asked.

She sighed and put her hand briefly to her forehead. "He wasn't there."

" _WHAT?_ " That came from all five of them at once.

"We spoke to his father who told us that Remus came through the floo, knocked him unconscious and ran away. He hasn't seen him since."

There was a very long silence as the rest of them tried to come to terms with this new information.

"He was lying," Sirius said, suddenly sure.

"We can't prove that, Mr. Black."

"If Remus had wanted to run away, he could have left from the Shrieking Shack and into Hogsmeade. Why would he go to all the effort of going home first?"

Professor McGonagall was staring mouth actually gaping in shock. "How do you know about that?"

It was Sirius's turn to be confused. "What?"

"The Shrieking Shack."

Sirius felt James stiffen beside him and felt his own heart plummet towards his boots. He was such an  _idiot_ sometimes. However, he could see there was no going back now. "We didn't know. Not until that night he ran away. He ran to the Shack and we followed him. He was going on about how he was transforming. We worked out that he's a werewolf, but he ran away before we could tell him we didn't care."

"You saw that room he goes into and you didn't care?" Professor Anders asked, his voice catching oddly in his throat.

"Well, we  _did_ care," James amended. "It looked awful. His blood was all over the walls. We promised we would look after him, but we can't can we? Not with that. And not with what his Dad does to him either."

Sirius was aware that all three of the adults were watching them with very strange expressions on their faces. Eventually Professor McGonagall spoke up quietly. "He really  _is_  lucky to have you three as friends. Not many people can see pass the prejudices of the wizarding world."

"Er…" Peter put up his hand. "I don't  _know_ the prejudices of the wizarding world. But if you tell me what they are I'm sure I'll see past them."

"That's why we have to  _help_ him!" Sirius said, ignoring his friend and trying to draw their attention back to the matter at hand. "Because we're his friends."

"What else can we do?" McGonagall asked.

Angela cleared her throat tentatively. Up until now she had not said very much; spending her time closely observing the interaction between the others. "I may have an idea."

She looked rather terrified when she was immediately accosted by three Marauders, all of whom crowded around her chair.

"Are we gonna go his house and blast down the door and tie up his father and torture him until he tells us where Remus really is?" James demanded with savage eagerness.

"Or just kill him in a very painful and messy way and find Remus for ourselves?" Sirius suggested.

"Or torture him for the information and  _then_ kill him in a very messy way?" Peter looked proud when Sirius and James gave him approving nods.

Angela looked, on the other hand, greatly disturbed and shot a desperate glance in her husband's direction.

"Come on boys, stop messing around," Anders said tiredly.

"Messing around?" Sirius turned to look at him. "Who's messing around?"

"My  _idea_ ," Angela said loudly. "Does not have anything to do with messy deaths."

"How about torture?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"Mr. Black, please return to your seat and listen quietly or I really will kick you out of this meeting." McGonagall's scowl had been perfected over decades of teaching adolescents and when it was pointed in their direction, they returned meekly to their bench. "Please continue, Mrs. Anders. And not another word from the three of you unless we give you permission to speak."

"Why don't we get a Ministry warrant to search the house on suspicion of child abuse?" Angela said.

"We can't, love," Anders pointed out. "Remus is an unregistered werewolf. If they find out there will be hell to pay and if he is lucky enough not to get executed, they will definitely  _not_ rule in his favour over any child abuse case."

"They don't need to find out," Angela said, turning to look at McGonagall. "Anders can come along on the rescue mission as one of the Aurors required for a house search. And he has an Auror friend whose sister is a werewolf as well. I'm sure he'd be discreet. Then all we need to do is get their testimonies, your testimony as a teacher of the school and a medical report from the school healer with proof of signs of abuse and we will be able to get Remus out  _and_ prosecute his father at the same time."

There was a pause as everyone in the room thought it over. Eventually Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Remus' father could easily inform the Ministry that Remus is a werewolf if we try to prosecute him."

"There must be a  _reason_ he has never told anyone before," Angela pointed out. "He hasn't even registered Remus. I know – I checked our records in the Magical Creatures Department. We just have to make sure that reason holds up, even if he's faced with a sentence in Azkaban."

"It's a good idea," Anders said eventually. "We'll have to discuss it with Dumbledore. He has a lot of influence over the Ministry and will be able to help. The more proof of the abuse that we can get, the better as well. That way, they won't demand that Remus show the jury of Wizengamot his injuries and risk revealing his scars."

Sirius listened to them with awe.  _This_ was why it was good to have adults on your side. He had heard some truly  _horrible_ stories about Azkaban prison from his parents and he thought that it sounded like the perfect place to put Remus' father. He found himself growing to like the fragile-looking Angela more and more. She had a truly devious mind behind those big blue eyes and ridiculous curls. He could understand why Anders liked her.

When there was a lull in the conversation he tentatively put his hand up.

"What is it, Sirius?" Anders asked.

"I –uh – I could tell them about what I saw at the station," he said. "And about how he fainted from his injuries on the carriage."

"That might actually be a good idea," Anders agreed, looking at the two women. "If Sirius gave a statement under Veritaserum it would give our case a lot of weight."

"I cannot allow you to administer Veritaserum to one of my students without parental consent," McGonagall said regretfully. "Am I wrong in assuming that your parents wouldn't allow it, Mr. Black?"

Sirius scowled. "They won't."

"No, it's okay," Anders said. "In a child abuse case, you only need to get the consent of the child himself – willing consent, mind you. There are many cases where parents weren't happy with their children being caught up in these cases so they changed the law."

"That's excellent, then," McGonagall said, looking satisfied. "The three of you must leave now, I'm afraid. We need to go have a chat to Professor Dumbledore."

Reluctantly, Sirius, James and Peter got to their feet and walked to the door. Just before they left, James turned around and peered in again. "We will be able to come and get him, won't we?" he asked, worry colouring his voice.

Sirius froze. He hadn't considered that they might not be allowed on the rescue mission.

"I really don't think that it would be appropriate – " McGonagall began, but was interrupted by Angela.

"If Remus is badly abused and traumatised, perhaps he would be more comfortable if his friends were with us when we came to rescue him," she said.

Both Anders and McGonagall looked very uncertain.

"There may be very disturbing scenes there," Anders said. "Things that children shouldn't see."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest that if Remus was  _experiencing_ them, the others could cope with only  _seeing_ them. He was beaten to it, though, by Angela speaking again.

"They saw the room he transforms in, and coped well enough," she said. "I believe we can trust them not to behave foolishly."

Anders and McGonagall sighed in unison and nodded shortly. The Marauder's grinned at each other, then at Angela, who winked at them when Anders and McGonagall had their backs turned.

"I like her," Sirius announced, as they headed back to their common room.

"You would," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "She's like a grown up girl version of you and James. Very clever and sneaky."

"And marvellously good looking with not-at-all boring hair," James added sagely.

"If she was a boy, twenty years younger and not married to a professor, she could have been a Marauder." Sirius agreed.

Another week passed, and with it, Christmas. Although there were awe-inspiring decorations and celebrations the same as the year before, none of the Marauders felt able to get into the mood when they thought of the fact that Remus should have been with them. None of them could figure out why something as simple as getting a piece of paper from the Ministry saying they could enter someone's house, arrest them, and search for an abused child would take so long.

Eventually, however, almost a month after Remus had run away, the boys found themselves crowding around a portkey in the company of Anders, Angela, McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey and a very young, very tall black Auror by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt who, they were told, had promised to be discrete about Remus' lycanthropy.

Shacklebolt had protested vehemently when he heard that there were three second year boys tagging along on a Ministry-regulated rescue mission, but one stern look from Professor McGonagall had shut him up instantly. Sirius wondered if Shacklebolt had ever been one of her students who had failed to do his Transfiguration homework.

There was a sharp tug just below his navel and the scene around them blurred. When it cleared, Sirius looked around to find himself standing in the garden of a small property set on the edge of a forest. The walls around the garden were very high – much too high for someone to climb over, and the cottage in front of them looked a bit battered and worn – much like everything belonging to Remus. The cream-coloured paint was peeling off the walls where ivy had worked its way into cracks, and the garden looked like it hadn't been tended in a very long time.

The boys trailed after the adults as they approached the door. Shacklebolt knocked sharply and there was a tense silence as they waited for a response. After a while there was the sound of footsteps and the door opened a little to reveal the suspicious face of the heavily-built man that Sirius had seen at the station. He had Remus' eyes, Sirius noted. Very light brown, almost amber. Sirius had assumed the eyes were part of the werewolf curse, but he had obviously been wrong.

"Mr. Lupin," Anders said importantly, "we have come here following reports of child abuse taking place in this home. We have a search warrant from the Ministry of Magic, as well as a warrant for your own arrest." He held up two pieces of thick parchment and Mr. Lupin's eyes widened. He tried to slam the door again, but Kingsley and Anders were already pushing their way in.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " Anders said as he passed the violently protesting man and watched with more than a little savage pleasure as John Lupin keeled over and landed with a hard  _thump_ on the stone floor of his hall.

The Marauders nervously followed the adults into the house. They were under strict orders to keep out of the way as much as possible, but Sirius couldn't resist giving the frozen John Lupin a subtle kick on the temple as he stepped over him. "Oops," he muttered when Anders noticed and glared at him, making no effort to sound the least bit repentant.

Angela stood in the middle of the scruffy living room's floor and pulled an odd metal instrument out of her robe pocket. It had two tiny silver bells on either end of a slender silver stick that was, in turn, attached to a small, square arch. Angela gave the bells a flick and the slender stick began to swing. Every time one of the bells made contact with the top of the arch, a high, tuneful ringing sound filled the room.

"What's that?" James dared to ask.

"A werewolf detector," she answered absently, tilting her head as she listened to the ringing. "The silver stick spins faster the closer a werewolf is. It's how our Department find unregistered werewolves." She must have noticed their horrified looks because she hastened to assure them. "I'm not going to report him. I just thought this would be a best way to find him if he's hidden in this house." She blinked and turned towards the kitchen. "In there," she added.

They rest of them followed her into the kitchen. It was very clean, but like the rest of the house, all the furniture looked old and worn. Angela walked towards a large dresser that stood at one end of the room. Then she stopped, frowning.

"It says he's around here," she said.

"He's in the dresser?" Peter asked uncertainly. "I don't think even Remus is little enough to fit in there."

For one horrified moment, Sirius had a vision of Remus dead, chopped up into little pieces and hidden in the dresser. Then Angela spoke again. "It seems that he's under us."

"There must be a cellar," Shacklebolt said, stepping forward. He waved his wand, and with a loud scraping sound, the dresser slid across the floor. Sure enough, a wooden trapdoor was set into the floor of the kitchen.

"His bedroom," murmured Madame Pomfrey. "I hope that man rots in Azkaban."

Shacklebolt knelt and tugged open the trapdoor. The others crowded around as he lowered himself down the ladder that led to the floor.

" _Great Merlin!_ " they heard him exclaim, his voice horrified.

Immediately, Anders and Madame Pomfrey followed. "You boys stay up here," McGonagall told them sternly. The three Marauders stared at her incredulously.

"Like that's going to happen," Sirius said.

Before she could protest, he launched himself towards the ladder and scrambled down. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was the same smell that permeated the bedroom in the shrieking shack – blood and wild animal. The air was thick and heavy, and as his eyes grew used to the gloom, Sirius became aware that they were in a 'bedroom' that seemed even more battered than the one in the shack.

The room contained one wardrobe, a bed, a bedside cabinet and Remus' now very scratched and tattered school trunk. Like the other room, the stone walls here were also splattered with blood – some old and well scrubbed bloodstains, and some looking new and sticky. Sirius felt bile rise in his throat and swallowed rapidly.

"Who would do this to a child?" Angela whispered. None of the others answered her, too busy staring round the room in disbelief and revulsion.

"Where is he?" Madame Pomfrey asked, her voice tremulous.

"Remus?" Sirius called softly. At the sound of his voice, the tiniest whimper could be heard from under the bed.

"Remus?" Anders said, approaching the bed. There was no answer this time. Anders looked up and beckoned Sirius, James and Peter over.

Sirius knelt beside the bed and peered into the gloom underneath. The smell of blood, sweat and wolf was even stronger and he could just make out a small shape curled up in the corner by the wall.

"Rem?" he reached out his hand to the dark shape. "It's Sirius. We've come to rescue you. James and Peter and I made all the adults help us come and find you."

There was another louder whimper this time but is sounded odd, as though Remus were struggling to form words underneath it.

"What did you say?"

"Sl'er axe."

Sirius froze, remembering what Angela had told him a few days before about the execution of werewolves.

"There's no silver axe," James said, kneeling beside Sirius and talking urgently. "We didn't tell the Ministry what you are, Rem. We don't care. You're still our friend."

"You are Remus," Peter said. "After Anders explained to me what the wizarding world's prejudice is, I looked right past it, I swear."

"Wh'ps?" Came the small voice again.

"No whips either, mate," James said, voice croaking a bit. "We promise. Just us and Anders and McGonagall – whose been doing 'The Glare' all day, mind, so stay out of her way. And Ander's wife who's almost a Marauder, you know. Oh, and Madame Pomfrey who has evil-looking potions as usual so I would stay out of her way too, and this bloke called Shakky-something who has a sister whose a werewolf and he loves her."

There was an odd sound then, like a pained choke. Sirius' heart jumped with fright until he realised it was a very watery giggle. "Y're rambling, J'mes.."

"I see the inner Marauder's still with you, then," Sirius said dryly, almost smiling at James' rather indignant look. "We were missing his inventiveness for pranks."

There was a very long silence while everyone in the room held their breaths. The adults had backed away from the bed so they weren't crowding the boys. Sirius almost jumped when he suddenly felt a small and warm hand slip into the one that he had stretched out under the bed. He gently gripped it back.

"Y'don' hate me?" the hope in that quiet voice was the most heartbreaking thing Sirius had ever heard.

"No, Remus. We really don't. You being a werewolf isn't a good enough reason to break a wish made with blood and moonshadows."

The hand in Sirius' jumped. "You saw?"

"I saw," Sirius replied, speaking quietly and trying to make out Remus' expression. His eyes were growing used to the dark and he could just make out the gleam of amber eyes watching him. "I followed you that night. You didn't need to do it, though. We wanted to be your friends before that. We were just a bit freaked out because we saw you beating up some Slytherins in the dungeon. Don't know why now. It was pretty awesome."

There was another choked noise, and another. Sirius felt Remus' hand shaking and this time he realised the other boy was crying.

"Th-th-thought y'hated m-m-me!"

Sirius shared a brief look with James and Peter, then knelt down, extending both arms under the bed. "Come out, mate. We need to get you fixed up."

There was some shuffling noises and then the shape was moving towards him. When Remus emerged from under the bed, Sirius had to fight from crying out in shock. He was a mess; streaked and covered with burns and blood had dyed his pyjamas almost entirely sticky red. It was impossible even to tell what colour his hair was. He was clutching some very battered boxes to his emaciated chest with one hand as he crawled.

"Ah, Rem," Sirius said, unable to think of anything else.

He pulled the unresisting boy gently into his arms and felt the skinny shape slump against him, still sobbing. Remus smelt terrible – a mixture of blood, sickness and infected wounds, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. He just held onto him, shaking and watery-eyed.

"Remus?" James whispered, coming closer and taking one of Remus' hands, "We're sorry. We really are."

Peter joined them as well, and reached out to touch the boxes that Remus clutched against his chest. Sirius recognised them immediately. A box of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans, a box of fizzing wizzbees and box of chocolate frogs. One of them still had a scrap of Christmas wrapping paper clinging to it. Sirius felt his heart ache.

"I got you a better present than that this year," he murmured into Remus' ear.


	22. No Bras for Christmas, Only Friends

_Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it._ _  
(Tori Amos)_

**REMUS:**

Remus didn't remember much about the rescue. He remembered the sound of the dresser moving and the way he hoped that this time –  _this time_ – maybe his father would do what Remus had been begging him to do for the last few days. Call the Ministry, report him, kill Remus himself… he didn't care how it happened, all he wanted was for the excruciating, never-ending pain to go away.

Then he remembered feet – more than one pair – and voices that his shaky brain struggled to identify. And then there was Sirius's voice and he knew that his mind had finally snapped. He couldn't prevent a whimper of relief. If his mind was gone, maybe he could distance himself from his battered body.

Things faded for a bit after that, until a hand suddenly appeared in his line of vision under the bed. Sirius's voice again. James's and Peter's. And there were no silver axes and no whips. They promised him that.

There were arms – arms that didn't flinch with revulsion and disgust the way his father's did. He knew he smelled bad. The stench was a barrage on his sensitive nose, and even ordinary humans had to smell it. But the arms stayed around him and he knew the scent they brought with them. It was the blue-grey smell you got just before the rain, tempered with spiky citrus. Sirius. And then there were other smells. A hand touched his own and there was the cool green-brown smell of cut grass and carved wood that he knew was James. Then someone bobbed down on his other side and it was the scratchy smell of toast and sawdust - Peter.

The scents mingled together, trying to drown out his own smell of blood, sickness and hopelessness. They smelled of friends.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Two days later, Remus was woken from his drugged sleep by the sound of raised voices in the corridor outside the Hospital Wing.

"Oh  _please_ let us come and see him!"

"Mr. Potter, I've told you a hundred times, Remus is very poorly and he's not ready for visitors right now." Madame Pomfrey sounded very stern and Remus knew exactly what expression she would be wearing. He wondered how the others weren't intimidated by it.

"He'd  _want_ to see us."

"Please Madame Pomfrey." Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius was using his misunderstood-pureblood-outcast voice. "We have chocolate. And Christmas presents. It'll cheer him up."

"Mr. Black, what part of 'no' are you failing to understand?"

"We do bribes," Sirius said winningly, obviously trying another tact. "We could get you anything within reason. You'll be amazed the kind of contacts the Ancient and Moste Noble Family Black has."

" _Mister_ Black. You cannot bribe a school Healer into letting you into the Hospital Wing against her wishes!" Madame Pomfrey sounded as though she didn't know whether to be shocked, angry or amused. Remus wasn't surprised. Sirius tended to have that effect on most people. Remus could hear other students stifling laughter and realised that his friends must have drawn an audience.

"Alright," James said, his voice sounding very resigned. "We really didn't want to do this, but you've given us no choice."

"What are you talking about, Mr. Potter?" Madame Pomfrey said, sounding very suspicious. Remus couldn't blame her.

Their were three light thumps and then three voices chorusing " _Please_ , oh PLEASE, oh PLEASE let us into the Hospital Wing most beautiful and wonderful Madame Pomfrey!"

"Mr, Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew! Get  _off_ you knees this  _instant!_ This is  _entirely_ inappropriate!"

The other people in the hallway were openly laughing now.

"You are a wonderful and wise healer!" James said dramatically.

"You have saved our school from harm many a time!" Peter added. "We only ask one thing of you."

"Your potions are… admittedly revolting… but very effective!" Sirius announced. "And you, Ma'am, are a fine figure of a woman!"

" _MISTER BLACK!_ "

Remus couldn't help laughing. It made his whole body burn and ache, but he couldn't have stopped if he tried.

"Your hair is like melted chocolate!" James said, taking up where Sirius left off.

"Your eyes are – " Sirius began.

" _Alright! ALRIGHT!_ " Madame Pomfrey said, sounding frazzled and trying to speak over the hilarity breaking out all down the hallway. "You may see him for a very short while if you promise to be good!"

"Thank you! Thank you most wise and – "

"Mr. Black if you finish that sentence I will personally ensure that you will not leave the hospital wing for a  _week_. And the rest of you can leave  _now_!"

There was the sound of many footsteps hurrying away, then the door opened and the Marauders sauntered in, followed by a flushed looking Madame Pomfrey.

"That was quite a show," Remus managed to wheeze around his laughing and the pain.

"Look what you've done to him already," Madame Pomfrey said, staring accusingly at the three boys. "You'd better behave, or I'll go to your head of house! I'll be in my office."

She swept out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Well, that was fun," James said, throwing himself onto a chair by Remus's bed and grinning at him. "Did anyone else know Madame Pomfrey could turn such an interesting shade of puce?"

"I can't believe you did that!" Remus said, finally breaking off from laughing and sinking back against his pillows.

"Well, we wanted to see you," Peter said, taking the chair beside James.

"I gathered that. I still can't believe you did it, though."

"Let it never be said that Marauders are above using underhand methods to reach their goals," James said grandly.

"So Mister Moony, how are you feeling?" Sirius flung himself onto the bed beside Remus, causing him to hastily shuffle out of the way to avoid getting squashed.

"Sirius!" Peter said. "You could have hurt him."

"No I couldn't. He has wolfie powers. He got out the way in time."

"Wolfie powers?" Remus said indignantly. "Mister  _Moony_?"

"It's a good name, isn't it?" Sirius said, sounding pleased. "James thought of it."

Remus glared at James who had the grace to look a little apologetic. "I didn't know it would catch on so well."

"Don't you like it?" Sirius said plaintively.

Remus sighed. He could never resist Sirius when he did puppy dog eyes, and in truth he didn't mind the name too much. He had never had a proper nickname before, and the moon was involved in so much of his life, he supposed he couldn't think of a better one. "Well, it's better than Loopy anyway," he said. Sirius looked pleased.

"Anyway, we were doing research on werewolves while you were getting better, and we came to the conclusion that you're not a very good one," Peter said.

Remus raised an eyebrow, trying not to show how uncomfortable he felt about discussing his deepest, most hateful secret in such a playful manner. "Oh? I think I tick all the boxes. I got bitten, I have a horrible temper sometimes, I'm very strong and have good smell and hearing. Silver burns me. And of course I turn into a murderous, ravening beast once a month."

"Ah," James said, "but do you use your false human mask to seduce innocent people into befriending you, just so you can rip their throats out and eat their still-warm flesh while they sleep."

"Er…no?" Remus said. He was beginning to guess the kind of werewolf books the library was stocked with.

"Do you use your inhuman strength and violent, wolfish nature to bend innocents to your will, and so create a following of helpless human slaves?" Peter said.

"Um, not recently."

"Do you wish to roam free all the time, attacking humans at will, thus spreading thy hellish curse and creating a nation of ravening beasts bent on causing chaos and bloodshed?" Sirius asked with interest.

"Only first thing in the morning if I haven't had a cup of coffee."

"There, you see." Peter said, looking pleased. "Not a proper werewolf at all."

"Those books you read were written by prejudiced, bigoted gits who wouldn't recognise a real werewolf if it put on a grass skirt and danced the hula in front of them."

"Ooh!" Sirius said. "Is that one of your secret werewolf skills?"

"No!"

"Do you have any good ones we can read then?" James asked, his face becoming serious. "We want to find out as much as we can so we can help you."

Remus felt warmth run through him at that statement and a light flush come to his cheeks. "I've got some in my trunk. Did you rescue my trunk?"

"What do you take us for?" Sirius asked teasingly. "We're Marauders. We pillaged your room and brought everything."

Remus smiled.

"There wasn't much in there, but we couldn't find the rest of your stuff," Peter said.

Remus flushed in embarrassment. "That's it. It was all in there. That's my bedroom."

There was silence, then Sirius said with disbelief in his voice, "What? Not only over the full moon?"

"No, that's been my bedroom ever since I was bitten."

"But it was all…"

"I know."

"I'm going to  _kill_ him!"

"Sirius, that's my father you're talking about!" Remus said a little desperately.

"I don't bloody care!"

"I do! He's my father! He's my only family! Where is he? What have you lot done to him?"

"Remus, calm down." James leant over Sirius where he lay with his arms crossed and glowering on the bed next to Remus. He gripped Remus's shoulder gently. "We haven't done anything to him. He's in custody at the Ministry under charges of child abuse."

"What?" It was hardly spoken it was so soft. Remus felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. "You told me you hadn't gone to the Ministry."

"We told you we hadn't told them about you being a werewolf. And we haven't. And they're not going to find out. But your father has to pay for what he did to you. It was vile and inhuman."

"I'm not human," Remus whispered, his head spinning.

And then Sirius had moved and Remus felt himself once more enveloped in those arms, though they held him gently to avoid hurting his wounds. Remus was so wrapped up in bandages he could barely feel most of the places Sirius was touching him, but he felt warmth, and he felt Sirius's hand on the back of his neck, supporting him.

"You are, damn it!" the bigger boy said. "You're a person and what he did was wrong. I don't know why you don't get that."

"He did it to  _help_ me Sirius. To stop the wolf coming out and taking over."

"Oh come on, Remus," James said, staring at him in disbelief. "We know practically nothing about werewolves and even we know that making your angry or hurt or upset brings the wolf closer to the surface, not further away. You were barely in human mind at all when we found you."

Remus jerked and tried to pull away, feeling tears beginning to well up. He used all his strength to fight them.

"Remus," Sirius said, rubbing his back and refusing to let him go. "Remus, mate, we saw you like that and we still want to be your friends. Isn't that enough for you to believe we want what's best for you?"

"It's my  _Dad!_ " Remus choked.

"We'll be your family now," Peter said. "You don't need him. We won't hurt you."

Remus found he couldn't answer that unless he wanted the tears to escape. None of them said anything for a while and Sirius didn't let go of him. The hand on his back kept moving until Remus's ragged breathing was back under control.

"And on to something more cheerful," James said suddenly, making them all jump. "Presents and chocolate!"

Sirius immediately pulled away and started grinning. He leant over the edge of his bed and started digging through his bag, which he had thrown on the floor when he came in. He came up with piles of chocolate, which he dumped without ceremony onto a surprised Remus's lap. "Get well chocolate," he said proudly.

Remus opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, James and Peter dropped more onto the pile.

"W-w-what?" Remus said, staring down at the biggest pile of sweets he had seen outside Honeydukes.

"They're mostly from us, but some are from other people," Peter told him. "Anders and Angela, Professor McGonagall, that Shakkybolt Auror bloke and the sherbet lemons are from Dumbledore. They're some sort of Muggle sweet."

"Dumbledore?" Remus said weakly.

"But those aren't your Christmas presents," Sirius added. "You missed Christmas, so we brought them here today. You two give yours first."

James and Peter grinned and James pulled something out of his bag. "We put our money together," he said. "'Cos we wanted to get you a really nice one."

"What?" Remus said again. He was starting to panic. "I haven't got you any yet! I didn't have a ch-chance!"

Sirius put a calming hand on his arm. "We know, Moony. It wasn't your fault. If you really want to get us something, we can sneak into Hogsmeade at some point and you can buy us some stuff from Zonko's."

"We can't sneak into Hogsmeade!" Remus said. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"It's okay," James said. "Didn't you hear? It was in the Prophet yesterday. The Ministry Aurors found the Death Eater hideout. They caught twelve who are now on trial for a long stay in Azkaban. A coupe fled, but they're keeping a low profile now. There're not nearly enough of them to cause more trouble for a long time, and Voldemort is hiding as well. They reckon he's biding his time. Plus they've put all sorts of Auror security round Hogsmeade. Now can we get on with the presents?"

Remus was still feeling rather shell-shocked as James thrust the small, brightly wrapped package into his hand. "Happy Christmas, Moony. From me and Pete. You'll have to cast  _engorgio_ on it. We shrunk it to make it easier to carry."

Remus dazedly began unwrapping the present. What dropped out into his hand was a miniature wooden trunk. He stared at it open-mouthed.

"Come on, Rem," James said impatiently. He picked the trunk out of Remus's hand and placed it on the floor. " _Engorgio!_ "

The trunk grew and expanded until it stood full-sized on the floor. It was brand new, polished and glossy, made out of red-brown cherry wood. On the front was a polished brass plaque reading 'R. J. Lupin'.

"It's bigger on the inside," Peter said. "We didn't want to go through all your stuff, so we just tipped your old one upside down into it. I hope you didn't have anything breakable in it."

"I…I…" Remus tried to talk, but his throat kept closing.

"Do you like it?" James asked uncertainly. "The wolf had all chewed up your old one."

"Y-you shouldn't have spent so much money on me," Remus said, his heart beating wildly. "I can't give you anything like this. It's beautiful!"

James's and Peters' faces relaxed into relieved grins. "I don't want a boring trunk, mate," James said. "I already got one. I'd much prefer some dung bombs. I have this new plan for Snivellus – "

"Thank you!" Remus interrupted him, reaching across Sirius to grip James's hand and then Peter's. "This is the best present I've ever had."

His two friends grinned back at him, looking very pleased with themselves.

"Now Sirius's," James said, poking Sirius who had been lounging on the bed beside Remus watching with a grin. "He's been all secretive about it. He wouldn't tell us what it was and he got  _Anders_ to order it for him."

"Order it?" Remus asked, looking at Sirius. That sounded expensive.

"Yeah." Sirius began to look a little uncomfortable.

"Well?" Peter said impatiently. "Where is it, then?"

"I just…" Sirius pulled a small wrapped box out of his pocket. "It's stupid, really. I mean, it's a bit girly…" His cheeks were red.

" _Girly?_ " James said, raising his eyebrows. "What did you get him? A bra?"

Sirius flushed even more and stuffed the box back in his pocket. "No! I just… I don't want to give it to you anymore. I'll get you something else."

Remus shot a furious look over Sirius's bent head towards James who looked very guilty. Remus reached out and touched Sirius's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I don't care if it's girly," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "I can't think why you would think that would bother me. I'm Loopy, remember? I like all sorts of weird things."

Sirius didn't answer, he just ducked his head more. "C'mon Sirius," Remus whined, putting on his best pout. He hadn't had much practice, but apparently it worked because Sirius glanced up and couldn't help quirking his mouth into a small smile when he caught sight of Remus's face.

"Fine!" he said, pulling the box out and throwing it to Remus. "But I vote we get that puppy-dog face outlawed. I don't know why you haven't used it against McGonagall before. She would melt into a puddle."

"Because unlike you and James who have to talk their way out of trouble all the time," Remus said, beginning to open the present. "I don't get caught."

James and Peter snickered, but Sirius only watched apprehensively as Remus pulled a small, green box out of the wrapping paper. He carefully opened it and peered inside. He caught his breath. It was a pendent on a chain, made of some silvery-blue metal that wasn't silver because he felt no heat coming from it at all. It was in the shape of a hand; slender fingers spread apart, each crafted in minute detail. Set into the palm of the hand was a round, faceted blood-red stone. He knew it wasn't a ruby, because the Gryffindor rubies that resided in their point-scoring hourglass were pink-red. This was dark, crimson-red.

He didn't need Sirius to give him an explanation for the present. Even as he stared down at it, an image rose into his mind of his own hand, fingers spread wide, hovering over the ground to drip blood onto the moon shadow that he cast. This was overlapped by another image of a bloody handprint on the wooden wall of the shrieking shack, and worry and fear on Sirius's face as his eyes rose to meet Remus's in the dim light of his wand.

Sirius cleared his throat very awkwardly as the silence lengthened. "It's a garnet. The stone, I mean."

Remus felt the tears he had been able to fight earlier attack with renewed vigour. One managed to escape and trickled down his cheek.

"Remus?" Sirius sounded horrified.

He didn't get a chance to say anything else, because Remus had lunged across the bed to hug him, pulling the bigger boy into his arms and squeezing him hard. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" he said, horrified himself to hear his voice sounding so watery.

Sirius's arms came up tentatively to hold him back. "It's okay. It wasn't much."

"Bloody hell, mate," James said, reaching over to pry the box from Remus's hand. "What did you get him? I've  _never_ seen Remus show that much emotion."

He and Peter leant over to look at the pendent.

"Ah, I see," James said, grinning. "Sirius, I hate to break this to you, but you were right. You really are such a girl."

"I am not," Sirius pulled away from Remus to glare at James.

"Of course not. It's a  _manly_ necklace."

"It's not a necklace," Remus said indignantly, grabbing it back from James. "It's a pendant. Lots of blokes wear pendants."

"Hey hey!" James said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I was just messing with you, lads. I like it. Really. I think it was a good present." He looked at Sirius so the other boy could see he was telling the truth. Sirius relaxed and grinned.

"Better than an old wooden box anyway," he said.

"Oh, stuff it, Black."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A week later, two days before the end of the Christmas holidays, Remus wandered out of the Great Hall in the direction of the Library, his nose buried in a book.

"Remus?"

He looked up and smiled when he saw Anders and Angela heading towards him. Today Angela's pale hair was even fluffier than usual. Four giant ornamental butterflies rested among her curls so she looked rather like a giant flower. Their wings opened and closed at regular intervals.

"Hello, Professor. Angela."

"Call me Neil," Anders said, making a face. "I'm not your professor anymore."

Remus smiled uncertainly.

"Where are your friends?" Angela asked, looking over Remus's shoulder.

"Oh, off pranking Slytherins," Remus said, his smile widening. "They offered to let me come along, but I'm still not really up to the hasty retreat we are often reduced to."

"You mean the running away?" she said, a teasing note in her voice.

"It's always important to know when to cut your losses," Remus said sagely. "I can't really run at the moment. I end up trailing bandages like an enraged Egyptian mummy and Madame Pomfrey gets upset. Especially since I've only been out the Hospital Wing for three days."

"And of course, you're the good boy of the gang," Neil added, smiling at Remus.

Remus made a non-committal sound and tucked his book into his bag. "Did you two want me for anything, or did you just stop to chat?"

"We actually wanted to talk to you about something," Angela said seriously. Shall we go and sit somewhere?"

"If you want to," Remus said. "I was just – "

He broke off as the sound of running footsteps approached at the edge of his sensitive hearing. "You might was to pin yourself against the wall," he said to his two companions, following his own advice. They gave him an odd look, but obeyed. Seconds later, the footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the sound of yelling and laughing.

" _We'll get you bloody Gryffindors!_ " someone was yelling, " _You wait until your parents hear about this, Black!_ "

Suddenly Sirius and James swooped round the corner at top speed, rebounding off the wall and sprinting in the direction of Remus, Neil and Angela. They skidded to a brief halt as they caught sight of their friend.

"Bloody…brilliant…spell…Moony!" James panted, slapping Remus on the back. "Don't know… what we would do…without you."

"Just wait…till you see 'em," Sirius added.

The footsteps grew nearer and the two of them took off again, heading out the main doors and outside. A few seconds later they were followed by a group of five furious-looking Slytherin third-years, all sporting neon pink hair, shortened, knee-length school robes with pink lace on the cuffs, fishnet tights and a sign on each of their backs reading 'kick us while we're down'. They hurtled outside after the two black-haired Gryffindors.

"So," Remus said, turning back to Neil and Angela who had been watching the scene open-mouthed. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"They're a bad influence on you," Neil said sternly.

"Nope," Remus said, picking up his bag and leading them in the direction of the Great Hall again so they could talk. "I'm a bad influence on them. Who do you think came up with those spells? Can you picture either James or Sirius doing research in the library? And Peter, much as he's our mate, is not really the brightest  _lumos_  charm in the wand-shop."

"Those boys are very intelligent," Neil said, staring after Sirius and James. "They could do so much if they just put a bit of work in."

"I know," Remus said. "I work three times as hard as them and still get the same marks. It's rather unfair."

"Your marks are brilliant," Angela said.

"My point exactly." Remus smiled. "I don't care though. They've done more for me than anyone else ever has." His hand went up to unconsciously touch the pendant.

They reached the Great Hall and sat at the end of the Gryffindor table.

"Remus, we were wondering what you know about your father's trial," Neil said carefully.

Remus immediately stiffened, his good mood leaving him. "I know that he's being accused of…of…child a-abuse." It was so difficult to say those words. He hated them. "I wish he wasn't. I wish you'd drop the charges. He was only trying to protect me."

"Do you really think that?" Angela asked. "Do you really think he loves you?" The butterflies' wings fluttered in her hair as she tilted her head to look at him. Remus fixed his eyes on them so he wouldn't have to look at her face.

"I don't…I don't think he really l-l-loves me," he managed to say. "But he loved my mother. And she would have wanted to protect me. That's why he never reported me. For her."

"Remus," Anders said, leaning forward to make Remus look at him. "I think he was taking out his anger at having to protect you on you. It was wrong and wicked that he should do that to a child. Don't you want him to feel sorry for what he did? He starved you, beat you, burnt you, and imprisoned you. Imagine if that had happened to James or Sirius or Peter. What would you feel towards the people who did that to them?"

Remus looked away. "They're not werewolves."

"It doesn't matter what they are. Even if they were werewolves, what would you feel?"

Remus struggled with himself. "Angry," he whispered eventually.

"Yes," Angela said, gently taking his hand. "That's how we feel as well. Can you see now? You're a handsome, bright, fun young man who deserves a chance at life, just like anyone else. And the only way you're going to get that is if you're rid of that man. We're going to get him put in Azkaban so that can happen."

"Azkaban is horrible," Remus said tremulously. "I read stories."

"That's the point, love. We want criminals to learn that they shouldn't hurt people or they will get punished."

Remus felt himself tearing up inside. Part of him had an instinctive child's love for his father still – something deep and bitter that demanded he protect the man. Another part of him wanted nothing more than to see him suffer in hell, and yet another part remembered that John Lupin had bravely stood in front of a slavering werewolf to protect his wife, while at the same time leaving Remus open to another attack.

"I don't know what to feel," he said softly.

"I know it's hard. We just want to help. And you know we're here for you just like your friends are."

"If…If he goes. To Azkaban, I mean. I don't have anywhere to go."

"That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Neil said, and Remus felt the man take his other hand. "We wanted to offer our home to you, if you want it."


	23. Child-like Moony

_A characteristic of the normal child is he doesn't act that way very often._

_(Author Unknown)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius lay awake and pondered the merits of getting up out of his warm and comfortable bed to relieve his full bladder, as opposed to trying to ignore it and going back to sleep. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but when he shifted and rolled over onto his stomach, the need became worse and a glance at the window confirmed that the sky outside was still the deep kind of indigo-black that indicated a long wait until morning.

Groaning in annoyance, he slipped out of bed and crept to the bathroom. On the way back, he glanced over at Remus's bed and saw that curtains were half-open, revealing the fact that the other boy wasn't there.

Sirius frowned and glanced towards the dormitory door which was open a crack. Shooting a longing look at his bed, he reluctantly crept out of the dormitary door, heading downstairs. The common room was lit only by the dying fire in the massive stone fireplace, and it took a few moments before he caught sight of Remus curled up on the window ledge, dressed in his tatty, too-long pyjamas. Sirius hesitated, uncertain as to whether he should break the other boy's solitude. The decision was made for him when Remus cocked his head to the side without turning away from the window and said, "Did I wake you?"

"Nah," Sirius said, moving towards him, "I had to pee."

"Ah, the secret's out! So you're the mysterious midnight Common Room Pee-er. I think there's an award out there for anyone who can reveal your identity."

"No, you silly git," Sirius poked him on the shoulder. "I saw your bed was empty and wondered where you were." He was silent for a moment, but when it became obvious that Remus wasn't going to answer he added, "How did you know it was me?"

"We could sense you," Remus's voice was heavy with exhaustion.

Sirius glanced around. "We?"

"Me and Moony. He's nearer to the surface this close to full moon. Though I could have sensed you even if he wasn't." He sighed. "He seems closer today for some reason - right inside my head. I'm not really sure why."

Sirius peered over Remus's shoulder and saw the moon hanging almost full and heavy in the sky. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow."

Sirius sighed and climbed up onto the ledge beside Remus, their shoulders touching. "Can you talk to him? Moony, I mean."

"Kind of," Remus said. "It's not proper conversations. He doesn't have a human mind and he talks a bit like a child. You know;  _kill, eat, hungry, what this?_  He comes closer to the surface around the full moon and when I feel strong emotions like anger or pain or something. He wants to take over when that happens and I have to fight him back."

Something clicked in Sirius's head. "Ah! Like on the train in first year. And all those other times we thought you were mental and talking to yourself."

Remus smiled wryly, turning to look properly at Sirius for the first time. "I  _was_  talking to myself. Moony is part of me."

"That's a bit freaky, you know. Not in a bad way. Just that you have, like, two personalities living in you."

Remus turned back and leant his forehead on the cool glass of the window. "I didn't ask for it."

"I know you didn't." Sirius reached out to touch Remus's shoulder and felt the boy tense when his fingers made contact. "I know you didn't, Remus. And I think it's quite cool."

"Hah!" Remus tilted his face, without raising his head to give Sirius a small smile. This close, Sirius could see the weariness and pain on his drawn face.

"I wish there was something we could do to help you."

"There's not. Do you think I haven't looked?"

"We're the Marauders. We'll think of something."

Remus smiled again, looking touched but unconvinced.

"So why are you down here so late? Shouldn't you be getting rest?" Sirius asked, changing the subject.

"I find it hard to sleep around this time. And I had stuff to think about."

"What stuff?"

Remus sighed, turning to stare out of the window again. "They asked me if I wanted to live with them."

"What?" Sirius asked, confused. "Who?"

"The Anders. They asked me if I wanted to live with them if my father gets put into p-p-prison."

"Oh, Remus." Sirius didn't know how to react. In a way he thought he should be delighted that he wouldn't have to worry about his friend not having a home, but at the same time he could see it was causing Remus further conflict. "What did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it. I don't know what to  _do!_ " Remus's voice cracked as he bowed his head further, tawny hair slipping forward to obscure his face. "He's my  _Dad!_  That has to mean something, right? He's my last remaining family. I feel like I'm... I don't know... betraying him."

Sirius tentatively put his arm around the little werewolf's shoulders. "He hurt you."

"He always said it was for my own good."

"Do you really believe that, Moony?"

There was a very long silence, then in a voice that was more like a sob: "I don't know!"

"No one should ever make you do something you don't want to do," Sirius said fiercely, tightening his arm around Remus's thin shoulders. "James and Pete and I will make sure of that."

"I always dreamed about having friends like you."

"No you didn't," Sirius said, giving Remus a little smirk. "Even someone of your intelligence couldn't dream up something as awesome as me."

Remus gave a watery chuckle. "You're right. How could I dream up someone possessing such incredible humbleness and modesty?"

Sirius wrinkled his forehead for a moment. "That was an insult, wasn't it?"

Remus laughed.

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"We seem to spend an  _awful_ lot of time in here," Peter said, biting the head off one of the chocolate frogs meant for Remus as they approached the hospital wing.

"Think how bad it must be for Remus," James pointed out. "He really  _is_ in here all the time. I just hope Madame Pomfrey lets us see him. It's a good thing the full moon was last night rather than tonight. With lessons starting again tomorrow I'm not sure we could've got away to visit."

"Don't eat all the chocolate frogs," Sirius added, making a grab for the bag Peter was carrying. "They're not meant for you.

They pushed open the door to the hospital wing and looked around. All the beds were empty.

"Where is he?" Peter asked.

"What are you boys doing here?" said Madame Pomfrey, sounding startled as she came out of a little room at the back of the main ward.

"We came to see Remus," James said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, not sounding angry, only regretful. "You don't know what he's like the day after a transformation."

"We've seen him hurt worse than that," said Sirius stubbornly.

"It's not just that." she pushed back her dark hair from her forehead with one hand. Sirius couldn't help noticing that she looked very tired and strained. He felt worry uncurl in his chest.

"Well? What is it then?"

"He…" she stopped, searching for words. "Do you remember what he was like when we found him at his home?"

"Yeah," Peter said uncertainly. "He was all bleeding and hurt and stuff."

"No, I mean what  _he_ was like. I mean how he reacted."

Sirius frowned trying to understand. "What?"

She sighed. "The wolf is still very strong in him the day after full moon. Very strong. It affects his mind a little bit and makes him act… react…and speak a bit like a child. Because he was in pain when we found him, the wolf was close to the surface again. That's why he talked like he did. And why his memories are a bit hazy."

Sirius remembered his conversation with Remus about Moony's childish personality. It made sense, he supposed.

"It's worse this time," she said softly.

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"I think it has to do with the abuse he suffered over Christmas. For some reason he's worse today. He usually fights against the wolf, even in this condition. He can carry out normal, simple conversations as long as they're not too taxing. He's aware of what's going on around him. Today he just…He can't even really form sentences. I think the damage done to him has brought the wolf very close to the surface. I fear it might be permanent - that he might always be like this after the full moon now. I think a bit of the barrier that naturally occurs between his mind and the wolf's is broken."

"We don't mind," Sirius said firmly, trying not to show that his heart was hammering with anxiety. "We still want to see him. I bet he'd be glad to see us."

She visibly struggled with herself, before finally giving in and nodding. "Just... don't tease him about it after he recovers," she pleaded.

"We would never!" James said, looking insulted that she would think such a thing.

"I know, I know. You're good lads." She waved towards the door she had just emerged from. "He's in there."

They entered the room a little uncertainly, not knowing what to expect. Sirius saw that it was made of the same clean, pale stone that made up the rest of the hospital wing. There was a large, white stone basin in the corner and a window above the bed, which, unlike the other plain white hospital beds, was covered with a scarlet, Gryffindor duvet.

Sirius hesitantly went towards the bed, looking down at his friend. Remus was almost entirely hidden beneath the bedclothes, leaving only a shock of tawny hair resting on the red pillowcase.

"Remus?"

The covers shifted a little and the top half of a face emerged to observe him with wide, amber eyes.

"Siri's?" Remus's voice emerged uncertainly, muffled by the duvet.

"Yup, it's me, Moony. And James and Peter. We brought you some chocolate to make you feel better."

"Chocl't?"

"Yes. Do you want some?"

A hand crept out from the covers, palm-up. Peter stepped forward and placed a chocolate frog in it.

The rest of the face emerged, lit with a grin.

"Mine?"

"Yup. All for you, Moony." In spite of his light words, Peter looked pale and shocked.

The three boys pulled up the visitor chairs beside the bed as Remus struggled with the wrapper, his face intent. After a while a frustrated frown formed on his forehead, turning into a wince and a whimper as he gave a vicious pull at the wrapper and agitated his wounds.

"Let me," Sirius said, holding out his hand.

"Mine!"

"I know, Moony. I'll just unwrap it for you."

Remus eyed him suspiciously; a soft, surprisingly deep growl of warning rising in his throat, before he carefully placed the chocolate frog in Sirius's hand. He unwrapped it quickly and handed it back. Remus stuffed it into his mouth with a clumsy hand, as though afraid they would take it back at any moment and Sirius felt almost sick with pity. He thought of bright, intelligent, mischievous Remus being reduced to this every full moon. And then he remembered that John Lupin was responsible. The dark red-black hatred flared in his chest.

"There's more, Remus," James said, his voice cracking just a bit. Sirius wondered if he felt as bad as he did. "You don't have to gulp them down like that, mate."

Peter tipped the bag they had brought with them out on the bed in front of the boy who looked at the other Marauders uncertainly, his fingers twitching towards the sweets. There was chocolate smeared round his mouth. Sirius picked up another chocolate frog and unwrapped it, handing it over. This time Remus ate it a bit more slowly.

"Is it sore, Moony?" Peter asked, waving a little towards Remus's obviously bandaged arm beneath his pyjamas.

Remus looked at him, then down at his arm. He plucked at the sleeve so it rose up a little revealing new, healing scratches over the scars. "Moony hurt," he told them earnestly.

Sirius was unsure whether he was referring to himself in the third person, or whether he was trying to tell them that the wolf, Moony, had hurt him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Not you," Remus said, reaching out reassuringly to pat Sirius's hand where it rested on the bed. " _Moony_ hurt."

It was a long awkward morning that followed. Eventually, Remus grew tired and began drifting off to sleep, his hands and face sticky with chocolate. The boys removed the remaining sweets to the bedside table and stared down at the dozing boy.

"Do you reckon we should clean him up a bit?" James asked, his cheeks flushing darkly with embarrassment.

"I think we should," Peter said. "Madame Pomfrey would probably kill us if she found out how much chocolate we just fed him."

The two of them turned to Sirius and he took a step back. "No! Why me?"

"Well," James said, waving his hands vaguely. "You know you... hug him and stuff more than we do."

"I do  _not!_ "

James and Peter just stared at him.

"I don't see why I should clean him up," Sirius said sulkily.

"There's a cloth over there," James said, pointing to the stone sink in a little corner alcove.

Remus mumbled a little, and his sticky fingers tightened on the sheets. Sirius glanced at him and sighed. "Gits!" he aimed at James and Peter, walking over to get the cloth. He very awkwardly began to wipe the worst of the chocolate off Remus's fingers.

Remus's eyes flickered open a little as Sirius wiped his mouth. He made a questioning noise that sounded more canine than human.

"Just cleaning you up a bit, Moony. Go back to sleep."

Remus obediently closed his eyes and drifted off again.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus missed the first day of classes the next day. It was not until the evening when the rest of the Marauders were sitting by the fire playing exploding snap that he returned. Sirius spotted him first as he climbed through the portrait hole gingerly to avoid aggravating his injuries.

"Hey, Remus, mate!" he called. "Over here"

Remus glanced at them, then flushed, looking down to avoid meeting their eyes. He approached hesitantly.

"What's wrong, Moony?" James asked him, tone worried as Remus sat on the edge of a sofa instead of lounging on the floor like the rest of them.

"Madame Pomfrey said you came to see me," Remus said, his face painfully red. "I remember bits of it. I wish you hadn't."

"Why?" Sirius asked. "You looked happy enough to see us."

Remus just frowned, dipping his chin even more. He mumbled something that they couldn't catch.

"What?"

"I said I wish you hadn't seen me like that!" he snapped, jerking his head up. Sirius jumped, feeling hurt by the reaction until he saw the humiliation in Remus's eyes and realised it was just a reaction to severely damaged pride.

"Remus, we…" James began, then broke off, at a loss for words.

"It's what friends do," Sirius said, keeping his voice gentle as he could. "They see each other at their worst and stick with them anyway. We didn't mind at all. You were kind of cute - in a kid-ish sort of way."

Remus covered his face with his hands and groaned. "I don't  _want_ to be 'cute'!"

"Hey, we're sorry, mate," James said, clapping him awkwardly on the shoulder.

Remus sighed. "Not your fault. Just another one of those things, I suppose. I'm going to have to get used to it, I think. Madame Pomfrey reckons it might be permanent." The shadows in his eyes made him look a hundred years older.

"Look at it like this," Peter said, " _You_ only act like a kid once a month. James and Sirius do it all the time."

"Hey!" the two dark-haired Marauders said indignantly.

Remus couldn't help a snicker escaping at their expressions. "He does have a point," he said.

"Please don't make us promise not to come back," James said. "We like to check you're okay."

Remus sighed, looking away. "I just feel so stupid. I'm sitting there in my head screaming 'stop acting like that!' and the rest of me just ignores it."

"We know you're not really like that, Moony," Sirius said.

"Fine. But don't you  _dare_ ever mention what happens in that room to  _anyone_."

"We wouldn't. You know that."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Remus murmured; "it was sort of nice to have you there. I felt …safe."

"It's what we're there for, mate," James said, visibly relaxing as the awkward conversation drew to an end. "Now do you want to come have a go beating Sirius at exploding snap? He's lost every game so far."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Sirius,_

_I hop your doing okay at Hogwarts. I'm missing you here as usual and Mum has got a new tutor for me who is even worse than that old bat whoos ears you make drop off that one time. He's a proper pureblood nutta and he's obsesed with teaching me the history of every pureblood family in existince._

_I read the paper this morning and I saw an article about this Lupin bloke whos going on trial for child abus. That's nothing to do with_ your  _Lupin is it, cos youd better not get involvd in the case. Mum and Dad were not very simpithetic and if they hear you've got anything to do with it youll really get it bad when you come home. Just thourt I should warn you._

_I hate it here without you and I wish I was at Hogwarts already. I can't wait until next year when I can also be there._

_Yours,_

_Regulus_


	24. The Price of Belonging to You

_Every stress leaves an indelible scar, and the organism pays for its survival after a stressful situation by becoming a little older._ _  
(Hans Selye)_

**REMUS:**

The trial was set to take place in April, and Remus felt very relieved about that. Surely by that time, he would have had time to settle the conflict in his head? It raged there all the time; in every class, at the table in the Great Hall, in the common room at night. He couldn't sleep at all, and he had to force himself to eat. All the time in the back of his head the words were chanting; family or friends, family or friends, family or friends…

It was a gut-wrenching decision and he just didn't feel equipped to make it. He knew the others were worried. He felt their eyes on him all the time. It was like being back in first year, when he was aware of being watched wherever he went. This time he couldn't even retreat to the library, where he could sit of the floor, read a book and feel close to his mother. That only made it worse, because then the voice in his head would scream  _family, family family… it should ALWAYS be family!_

The only time he was free of it was over the full moon when the excruciating pain took over for a while. He wasn't sure it was an improvement. The Marauders stayed with him after every moon, none of them bringing up his humiliatingly child-like behaviour unless they had to, though the knowledge of it was always there anyway, unspoken. Even in that state he was aware of kind voices, gentle, if clumsy touches and gifts of chocolate. At these times, the little voice in the back of his head screamed  _friends, friends, friends!_

In what seemed like a frighteningly short time, April suddenly loomed in his future. He was not really surprised when one night a third-year came by with a message that Dumbledore wanted to talk to him.

"You going to be okay?" James asked, as Remus closed his book and pulled himself to his feet from where he had been curled on the mat in front of the common room fire.

"Yes, of course," he said, trying to smile. "He probably just wants to talk to me about the t-trial."

He knew his stutter hadn't gone unnoticed, because suddenly James, Sirius and Peter were looking up from the chess game in front of them and eyeing him with concern.

"I'll go with you," Sirius said, standing up.

"No, Sirius," Remus protested. "He didn't say you could."

"He didn't say I couldn't. It's getting boring watching James beating Pete for the fourth time anyway." He flashed an apologetic grin at the two boys before turning back to Remus. "Come on then."

Remus couldn't bring himself to protest anymore because in truth he was very grateful to have company. They headed out the portrait hole and to Dumbledore's office.

"Butterscotch éclairs," Remus murmured to the gargoyle and it moved to reveal the moving stairway behind.

"Ah, Mr Lupin!" Dumbledore said as they entered his office. "I see you brought Mr. Black here as well? This must be the first time he's ever entered my office without the accompanying words 'whatever it is, I didn't do it'." His eyes twinkled as Sirius looked a little abashed.

Remus glanced around the office and saw that Dumbledore wasn't alone. A tall witch wearing black, violet-trimmed ministry robes sat by his desk. She had slightly frizzy grey hair and an expression of harried kindness on her rather worn face.

"Remus, this is Ms. Marjory Oblen, from the Protection of Wizarding Children Department. She is involved in your father's case. Ms. Oblen, this is Remus Lupin and his friend, Sirius Black – both second year Gryffindors."

Remus didn't miss the way her eyebrows twitched at the name 'Black' and then even more when she heard 'Gryffindor'.

"Mr. Lupin," she said, standing and shaking his hand. "I am just here to inform you that your father has requested a chance to talk to you before the trial."

Remus blanched, and she obviously noticed because she hastened to add, "You are, of course, under no obligation to accept. And if you do, you will be observed the whole time to make sure he doesn't do anything to hurt you."

If she thought those last words would comfort him she was wrong. Remus felt a sick twisting in his belly and took a little step back. He felt Sirius's comforting hand on his arm, giving it a little squeeze.

"Shall I tell him you don't wish to speak to him?" Ms. Oblen asked, looking at him with concern.

_Family or friends, family or friends, family or friends…_

"N-n-no, I'll t-talk to him," Remus managed.

"Are you sure?" She looked very dubious. "You don't have to."

"Yes," he said a little more firmly. "I'm sure." His face felt hot and damp and he reached up to swipe his hair out of his eyes. He jumped when he heard a little gasp emerge from her mouth and saw her eyes fixed on his wrist where his sleeve had fallen away to reveal his scars. He quickly shook it back, blushing.

"Maybe we shouldn't…" she began, but Remus cut her off with a sharp shake of his head _. Family or friends, family or friends…_

"No, I want to talk to him."

He felt Sirius's grip tighten on his arm and glanced into very worried grey eyes. "C-can I take my f-f-friends?" he asked uncertainly.

Her gaze softened. "Of course, love. Bring anyone you want to. You should be as comfortable as possible. Will Saturday be okay?"

Remus nodded, wanting to get away quickly. "Can I go now?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded. He knew he was trembling and he knew that Sirius was bound to feel it too.

"Of course. Dumbledore will floo you over next Saturday." She glanced at Sirius who still had a tight grip on Remus's arm. "I didn't know there was a Black in Gryffindor. Much less the heir to the Black fortune."

Remus stiffened, automatically stepping forward a little to shield his friend from any potential insults even as Sirius raised his head defiantly. Remus saw Ms. Oblen's eyebrows rise a little further at these small actions. "It's not a bad thing," she said hastily. "If I were you, Mr. Black, I would feel very proud. You will do your name justice."

"I highly doubt that, Ms. Oblen," Sirius said, and Remus jerked in surprise at the sheer aristocracy that dripped smoothly from his voice. He had never heard Sirius sound so pureblood. "The Black name stands for many things that I am not."

She looked at him for a long moment before she murmured, "Then I look forward to the day when you inherit, and those ideals change with you."

Sirius eyed her for a moment, before dipping his chin in a brief nod and turning towards the door. "Come on, Rem." Remus allowed himself to be tugged away. As they reached the door, Sirius called over his shoulder "See you, Dumbles!"

"Mr. Black, I have asked you before to kindly refrain from using that undignified nickname to refer to me!" Dumbledore called after him, sounding more amused than angry.

"Sirius!" Remus said, feeling rather shocked as they made their way back to the common room.

Sirius laughed at his expression. "You're such a hypocrite, Moony. Don't act all outraged. I know exactly who charmed Dumbles' gargoyle to wolf whistle at him every time he came out of his office last month."

"Yes, but he doesn't," Remus pointed out. "He knows exactly who it is who refers to him as 'Dumbles'. The professors are right. You are incorrigible. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Yes you do," Sirius said looking affronted. "I wrote a whole list of reasons for you to learn the last time you said that. Don't tell me you don't remember them."

"I do," Remus said. "I'm just beginning to wonder if 'Sirius has really cool hair' is going to be enough to convince me this time."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

As he stood outside the prisoner's meeting room, Remus was so nervous that he actually felt nauseous.

"Now, we've confiscated his wand," Ms. Oblen was telling him. "And there will be an Auror in there to prevent him from doing anything to hurt you. I'm afraid these others will have to stand in the room next door and listen and observe through the window. We can't have too many people in there.

Remus glanced up to where the Marauders and Neil Anders hovered protectively behind him. "Okay," he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

"Very well, if you will come with me?"

Remus took a deep breath and followed her through the door.

The meeting room was small and very bare. There were only two chairs facing across a table and a grim looking Auror standing in the corner. There was a fireplace to his right, and to his left, the wall was taken up with a large window through which his friends watched him from the other room.

The fireplace flared green and two more Aurors emerged holding John Lupin between them. Remus caught his breath. His father looked terrible; incredibly thin, dirty and pale. His hair was straggly and it looked like he hadn't shaved for at least a few days. His amber eyes were the same, though, alight with the fire of indignation and anger as he looked at Remus.

"Sit," one of the Aurors ordered, shoving him into the chair opposite Remus. He muttered a spell, waving his wand briefly over John Lupin's body and he slammed back against the chair as if pinned there.

"Ready?" the Auror asked, looking to Ms. Oblen.

"Yes, we'll call you when he needs to return to his cell."

They nodded and stepped back into the fire. Ms. Oblan moved to stand beside the silent Auror in the corner to give the father and son the illusion of privacy.

"Remus."

Even though he knew the man could not move far in his seat, Remus still cringed back at the sound of that voice.

"D-Dad?"

"You did this to me. This is your fault."

It was said with such coldness and certainty that Remus shrank back. He glanced towards the window and saw his friends and Neil alternately glowering at his father and sending him worried looks.

"I d-didn't," he managed to say. "I t-told them not to arrest you."

"You expect me to believe that, you ungrateful creature!"

Remus felt himself trembling violently and clenched his fists hard in his lap, feeling his nails dig bloody half-moon holes into his palms.

Ms. Oblen stepped forward. "I think maybe we should…"

Remus shook his head at her. He knew he had to do this. He had to settle the voices in his head and this was the only way.

"D-Dad. You h-h-h-hurt me," he said, hating how the man reduced him to this pathetic, stuttering, quivering mess.

"You know perfectly well that everything I did was for your own good," John said coldly, his eyes flicking over Remus's body with vicious cruelty.

"N-no…" Remus said. He thought of the day after the full moon. He thought of the way he was now reduced to childish one-word sentences and hugging the stuffed-toy wolf James had transfigured for him when he became upset the last time. A flush of humiliation ran through him, and he felt his resolve harden a bit. "No, you're wrong."

"Excuse me?" John Lupin sneered. "If it weren't for me you would be nothing more than an animal!"

"I really think – " Ms Oblan said, before jerking back as both Lupins snapped '"No!" at her.

"You made me an animal, Dad!" Remus felt his anger uncurl in his chest like a stretching wolf. "Mum made me promise not to be, but you made me one."

"If it weren't for your mother, I would have you in here in my place," John said, shaking with fury. Remus heard the words the man didn't add. I would have told them you were a werewolf a long time ago, and allowed them to kill you.

"You think Mum would approve of what you did to me?" Remus demanded. "You think she would agree that locking me in the basement and h-h-hitting me and b-burning me were good things to do? No matter what I did?"

"It doesn't matter!" John said, straining against the spell that held him. "She's dead and it's your fault!" he leaned forward as far as he could, speaking in a spiteful whisper. "You killed her."

"I d-d-did not!" Remus said, feeling tears begin to trickle down his cheeks. He ignored Ms. Oblen's helpless expression as she longed to step in. "You know I didn't. It was an accident. I didn't do anything to hurt her!"

"You will get me out of here, Remus," John continued. "I have protected you for years, even though I can't stand the sight of you."

"Why  _should_  I?" Remus spat. "Why should I do that for you when all you've ever done is h-hurt me?"

"Because I'm your father. We're family, much as I hate you. Blood always comes first. I would have thought you, of all people, would know about the power of blood."

Remus winced.

"There are prices you have to pay for family," John continued, his eyes moving pointedly towards the shoulder where Remus's werewolf bite was hidden. "There are high prices you have to pay. And you belong to me."

Remus felt himself grow still. This was it, then. This was what he had been waiting for: The moment where he had to make the choice. Friends or family. Blood or love. His gaze flicked to the window where his friends were observing the scene with dumb shock and apprehension. His eyes went to Anders.  _We wanted to offer our home to you, if you want it._

Slowly he stood and approached his father, whose eyes widened fractionally. He pulled back one of his sleeves – all the way to his shoulder – ignoring the gasps as their observers as they caught sight of the criss-crossed scars and burns that littered his arm. Of course, some of them were from the wolf, but many of them were given to him by his father.

"Is this the price?" he asked softly, staring into amber eyes identical to his own. "Is this the price of belonging to you?"

John Lupin's eyes widened even more and his breath caught in his throat. He saw something in Remus's eyes he hadn't been expecting. Remus didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was the wolf, although he doubted that. Usually, the sight of the wolf in his eyes sent his father into a fit of hate and rage. No. Perhaps what he saw for the first time was a hint of the human man that was just beginning to form from the broken boy in front of him. Remus wanted him to see that man he was striving to be. He wanted his father to realise just what he had lost.

"Because," Remus finished softly, his gaze flicking once again, very briefly, to the window, "I don't think I am willing to pay that price anymore."

There was deathly silence between them as the words registered, and Remus saw his father's face grow very, very pale. For a moment – just the briefest moment that he would have missed had he not been so close – he saw a flicker of guilt flare in those eyes. Then it was replaced by anger and John Lupin reared his head back and spat at Remus's face.

"Then you can go to hell!" he said viciously.

Remus laughed bitterly, unable to help himself. "I've already been there. Remember? A dark room with blood all over the walls and a poker that burnt me until I screamed for someone to just kill me. You must remember, Daddy. You put me there."

"Monster!"

"I'm the monster?" Remus said, with tearful incredulity. "It must run in the family then." He turned to Ms. Oblen who stood with her mouth hanging open as she watched the exchange. "I'm going now."

He turned and walked out of the room, not looking back. He wasn't afraid his father would tell anyone his secret. He knew from the helpless fury in John Lupin's eyes that, even now, his mother had her delicate hand gripped around his vocal chords. The man would never tell. And he would rot in Azkaban for a long time as a result. Remus really couldn't bring himself to care.

"Remus?"

His friends stood in front of him looking horrified, helpless, and compassionate. He glanced at Neil who hesitated for a moment, then tentatively held his arms open in offering. Remus knew he was offering more than just a hug. It was another silent invitation to share his family and his home. Remus didn't even pause to think about it. He practically fell into Neil's arms, burying his face into the man's chest to hide the tears burning in his eyes.

"It's okay now," Neil murmured into his hair. "It's okay now."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The day of the trial finally arrived and Remus wished more than anything that he didn't have to go. Both Angela and Neil were attending as his new guardians, as well as the Marauders and Dumbledore, who was part of Wizengamot, and therefore, the jury.

Remus had never felt as uncomfortable as he did when he entered the courtroom dressed in Sirius's smallest formal robes, as he didn't own any. Although Sirius had grown out of them, they were still a little big for Remus, though the feel of black and burgundy velvet against his skin gave him more confidence. It was a semi-circular room; with banks of chairs rising up in a crescent. Their group was ushered to front row seats – though not without a fuss from the James, Sirius and Peter who were almost placed at the back. They faced a little platform on which stood a giant wooden chair with chains attached to the arms and legs. Remus stared at it in apprehension. Would he be expected to sit on that as they questioned him?

A strict looking witch in black Ministry robes stood up and peered over her oval glasses and around the room. "If everyone is seated, I would like to proceed in presenting the case against Mr. John Lupin to the jury. Firstly, would Mister Remus Lupin, victim of the alleged abuse, please approach the floor?"

After a gentle shove from Neil and reassuring smiles from Angela and the Marauders, Remus stumbled to his feet and down the stairs to the platform. The stern-looking witch conjured a slightly less intimidating chair to sit on beside the chain-covered one, and Remus tentatively sat down.

"I am Grizelda Benatine," she said, turning her firm gaze to Remus. "I will be questioning you under the truth charm. This charm does not work like Veritaserum. It will not force you to say anything against your will. A green light will appear above your head and if you say anything untrue it will turn red. You are not obliged to answer any questions that you do not wish to. Do you understand, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus nodded wordlessly and she waved her wand in his direction. A small bulb of lime-green light appeared and swelled above his head.

"Please state your full name."

"R-Remus John Lupin," Remus said very quietly. The room must have been charmed, though, because it appeared that everyone could hear what he had said.

"Do you know why you are here?"

Remus resisted the automatic urge to point out that if he didn't know why he was here, he wouldn't be here. Instead he murmured, "My father is accused of ch-child abuse."

"Do you support this accusation?" Everyone leaned forward a little at this question. Remus saw that even his friends and new guardians looked interested in what his answer would be.

"I-I never asked that he be accused," he said, feeling himself grow hot and aware that he was trembling. "But I cannot d-d-deny the accusation."

"So your father abused you?" Grizelda pressed.

"Y-y-yes," he whispered.

There was a stirring from the jury's seats.

"John Lupin has been accused of serious neglect, as well as both physical and emotional abuse. Do you agree with this?"

Remus struggled with himself, aware that his answer had to be completely true for the light above his head to remain green. "I don't know what you mean by emotional a-abuse," he said softly. "But he beat me and stuff."

"Please give us a clearer definition," she said sternly, frowning at him over her glasses. "Exactly what did your father do to you?"

Remus felt his trembling increasing and gripped tightly at the arms of his chair, concentrating on not allowing his werewolf strength to splinter the wood. "H-he beat me. He h-h-hit me and k-kicked me a lot. Sometimes he c-cut me with a knife or a spell. He b-b-burnt me. With a poker. And he l-locked me in the cellar under the kitchen and put a d-d-dresser over the top and sometimes he gave me t-t-toast to eat."

He truly hated how he stuttered. He knew if James or Sirius had been up here, they would have spoken clearly and confidently. They were proper Gryffindors. Not pretend ones like himself who had only been put there because the Sorting Hat couldn't think of anything else to do with him.

"How often did he feed you?"

Remus shrank back from her firm, emotionless voice. "I d-don't really know. There are no windows in m-m-my bedroom."

"The cellar was your bedroom?" This time, one of her elegant black eyebrows arched a little, and a wave of muttering ran through the room.

"Yes."

"How long were you down there?"

"Um… if you mean over this C-Christmas, then about a month, I think. But he has k-k-kept me down there before."

"Why did you not report this abuse before?"

Remus flushed and looked down. "I d-didn't know that's what it was. I didn't know I was different. I n-never really saw any other children until I came to school. H-h-he said it was for my own good. To make me into a n-n-normal boy."

"And you believed him?"

Remus shrank back further, feeling all the eyes on him. "Y-y-yes. He was my Dad. Of course I believed him. He said I was all w-w-wrong and needed to be normal." As if a werewolf could ever be that, he added to himself bitterly.

This time the muttering was louder and Remus couldn't bring himself to raise his head and see all those pitying faces.

"Mr. Lupin," Grizelda said, and her voice had taken on a slightly softer note that Remus thought boded nothing good. "Would you mind rolling up your sleeve to show the jury?"

Remus flinched violently and tucked his arms against his sides, looking desperately to Dumbledore and Neil for guidance. Dumbledore met eyes with concern, then gave a little shrug and a nod as if to say, "This is your decision."

Slowly, his whole body aware of the werewolf scar that resided on his right shoulder, Remus rolled up his sleeve to the elbow and held his arm out. This time it was not just mutter, but actual exclamations of horror and shock as everyone in the room stared at his right forearm. It was laced with scars and the burns, which were still slightly pink. Madame Pomfrey was working on a potion to help reduce scarring – particularly burn scars – but so far, she had been unsuccessful.

"Can I go now?" he whispered, when it seemed everyone would just sit and stare at his arm forever.

"Yes, yes. I have no more questions," Grizela Clearwater said, her voice distracted as she raised her wand to banish the light above his head, her eyes still fixed on his arm. He blushed and rolled down his sleeve then retreated back to his seat.

Grizelda seemed to pull herself together, and she turned to face the jury once more. "There will be a short break, before we rejoin to question John Lupin."

Remus reached out to grip Neil's arm. "Please can we go?" he begged. "I don't want to s-see him again."

"Are you sure?" Angela asked.

Remus nodded violently. "Please can we just go?"

Neil nodded and stood, wrapping an arm around Remus's shoulder and giving him a squeeze. "Of course. You don't have to watch this."

With great relief, Remus allowed himself to be led from the dreadful room and back to the flooing station to return to Hogwarts. The thought of facing his father again made him feel physically sick.

"You never have to see him again," Angela murmured in his ear as they waited to use the floo. "I promise you that, Remus. Not ever again."

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The trial was in the headlines of the  _Daily Prophet_  the next day, and the picture of John Lupin being led to Azkaban by two Aurors depicted an utterly broken man. The eyes were dull, blank and lowered, the hair even more lank and scraggly than it had been on the last day he talked to his son. Sirius, James and Peter hid the article from Remus, and he, in turn, never asked to see it.


	25. High on Pepper-Up

_"Worry is interest paid on trouble before it is due"_

_(William R. Inge)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius noticed a remarkable change in Remus after the trial. Everything about the other boy just seemed lighter. When James and Sirius – who were both unable to go more than a few days without pulling a prank – had charmed Professor Slughorn's socks to sing the Slovenian National anthem every time he passed through a doorway, Remus had laughed in a way that Sirius had never seen before. It was helpless and on the point of being slightly hysterical, and Sirius was not entirely convinced that the tears that had streamed down Remus's cheeks were solely due to mirth.

Remus even seemed to walk differently. His skinny shoulders were less bent – no longer looking as though he were constantly cowering from notice, and his steps now had just the smallest boyish bounce to them.

The biggest change, though, was apparent after the first full moon of the trial. Sirius, James and Peter made their way, as usual, to the hospital wing armed with chocolate. When Madame Pomfrey spotted them, she smiled and waved them towards the door.

"You have to see him today," she said, with an edge of delight in her voice that was rarely heard. "He's just so…" she trailed off and smiled.

The Marauders exchanged looks, rather disturbed by this open display of positive emotion from the woman who usually only tolerated them once they had recited her list of 'Rules of Behaviour in the Hospital Wing That Apply To Everyone and Most Particularly a Certain Group of Young Gryffindor Hooligans Who Shall Not Be Named in the Interests of Preventing Younger Generations From Following in Their Disorderly and Incorrigible Footsteps'. It took Peter months before he could even remember the title.

"You reckon she's high on pepper-up potion?" Sirius hissed to the other two as they edged suspiciously past her. "I heard it's addictive and she didn't even make us recite The List."

"It's a good thing, too," Peter mumbled. "I've forgotten what Rule Thirty-Two is again."

"Thou Shalt Not Insert Arabian Fire-Chilies Up The Noses of Unconscious Slytherins," Sirius and James recited in unison.

"Really? I thought it had to do with bedpans and  _Fillibuster's Travel-Sized Water-Activated Fireworks_."

"Nah, mate," Sirius said, approaching the door to the private ward where Remus always stayed after the full moon. "That's Rule Twenty-Three. You got the numbers mixed round again."

He pushed the door open and almost jumped out of his skin when his arrival was met with a delighted exclamation of, " _Siri's!_ "

Remus was sitting up in bed, watching him through drowsy, but shining eyes. He seemed completely unbothered by the bulky bandage on one shoulder, or the healing scratch on one of his cheeks. He couldn't believe this was the same cowering mass of nerves that had greeted them after every other full moon since Christmas.

"I was right," he hissed at James. "They've both gone and taken pepper-up overdoses!"

The three of them approached the bed and settled into the visitor chairs, staring at their currently child-like friend in consternation.

"Chocl't?" Remus asked, holding a hand out.

"That's all you want us here for, isn't it?" James said teasingly, as he handed over an unwrapped chocolate frog. "We're your black market chocolate supply."

Remus stared at him as he chewed. "Wolf," he said, using a chocolate-smeared hand to hold up the stuffed toy James had transfigured for him the last time. "James make."

James gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yeah. I did, mate."

"Pete, chocl't?" Remus asked, holding out his hand again to the chubby Marauder. Peter grinned and handed him a piece of chocolate cake. Sirius watched him eat it with a wrinkled nose.

"You do realise I have to clean him up afterwards?" He complained, as the crumbs and icing seemed to spread everywhere. "I still don't know how I got landed with that job."

"Mmmm!" Remus said, licking the icing off his fingers, while the toy wolf under his arm got liberally smeared.

"Why do you reckon he's so cheerful?" Peter asked. "He's never like this. Usually it takes about twenty minutes just to coax him out from under the covers."

"I dunno," Sirius said, watching Remus closely. "But I reckon he doesn't look as beaten up as he usually does after the full moon. I think it has to do with getting rid of his Dad."

"Dad?" Remus froze suddenly, the happy smile dropping from his face and his amber eyes widening in fear. "Where Dad? Where Dad?" He curled into a ball against his pillow.

"Sirius!" James snapped.

"I didn't mean to!" Sirius said, desperately. "It just slipped out. Here Remus, it's okay. Dad's gone. Don't you remember? Dad's gone. He's gone, Moony."

He sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to un-curl the boy who whimpered like a kicked puppy in response.

"He's gone. I promise. No Dad."

"No Dad?" Remus asked in a small voice, turning his head a little to look at Sirius.

"No Dad," Sirius said. "I promise."

Remus hesitated, then uncurled a little and held his thin arms up to Sirius in an obvious plea to be held. Sirius looked down at him awkwardly, feeling a flush rise to his face.

"Damn it, Sirius, give the poor thing a hug," James said.

Sirius couldn't have resisted that expression for long anyway. He reached out and drew the smaller boy to him and Remus clung to his robes and pressed his face into Sirius's chest. Sirius wished the heat in his cheeks would go down, but he was acutely aware of James and Peter watching him. The other times he'd hugged Remus, he had been running on high emotion and hadn't stopped to think about it. Right now, it just seemed embarrassingly intimate. This close, Remus smelt warmly of chocolate and dry, autumn leaves, and his hair was soft and smooth where it brushed Sirius under his chin.

There was a long, awkward silence, and after a while, Remus began to relax his firm grip on the front of Sirius's robes.

"Is he okay?" Peter asked cautiously.

"Moony?" Sirius questioned, relaxing his grip on the werewolf.

Remus gave an unintelligible mumble and curled closer to Sirius's chest. Sirius felt himself blushing even more furiously. "I think he's asleep," he told the other two.

"Right," James said, also looking rather awkward. He picked up one the chocolate frogs on the bed, unwrapped it, and bit off the head. He cleared his throat. "So. You reckon you'll try out for the Quidditch team next year?"

"Yeah, probably," Sirius said, feeling himself relax a little as he latched onto this new, and much less awkward subject.

When it came time to leave, he found himself almost missing the warmth as he lay the sleeping Remus back down on the bed, cleaned him and tucked his toy wolf in beside him. He also knew he would never dream of telling James or Peter that. Ever.

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As the time approached for the end of term, Sirius couldn't help noticing that Remus became more and more jittery. He began to regularly excuse himself from the others' company and retreat to the library to read. He was only halfheartedly interested in the pranks the rest of the Marauders pulled and he had developed a tendency to become so lost in thought that one of the others had to poke him in order to gain his attention again.

Eventually when, for the third time running, Remus excused himself at lunchtime to disappear, Sirius stood up to follow him.

"Are you sure you should?" James asked doubtfully, looking up from where he was scribbling last-minute Potions homework while he ate his lunch.

"I just want to check he's okay," Sirius said. "You know he's been acting really odd recently. Maybe I can help."

"Just don't upset him," James said, pursing his lips and tapping them with his quill. "Maybe he just wants time to himself."

Sirius sighed. "I promise that if he doesn't want to talk to me I'll go away, alright?"

James nodded and went back to his scribbling.

Sirius slung his bag onto his shoulder and headed to the library, ignoring the look Madame Pince shot him as he entered. For some reason he couldn't fathom – and it definitely didn't have anything to do with a re-staging of the 1475 Battle of the Goblins, a mini fort built out of all the books in the Herbology section of the library and a misplaced  _incendio_ charm – she wasn't that fond of Sirius or James.

Unfortunately, after a quick look around, it became obvious that Remus wasn't in the library. Sirius left, wondering where else his friend would be. He jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder and swung round to see the red-haired Lily Evans standing behind him.

"If you're looking for Lupin," she said, "he's outside under that willow tree by the lake. He looked a bit upset, actually, so I thought I should tell you."

Sirius felt relieved. "Cheers, Evans."

"You didn't do anything to upset him, did you?" she asked. "Only I've noticed that he's always a bit sickly, and I read about his Dad in the paper."

"No," Sirius said, feeling rather indignant. "Not that it's any of your business since you're not his friend, but I don't know what's wrong with him. That's why I was looking for him."

She gave him a suspicious look, then waved her hand. "Whatever, Black. I have no idea why he chose you and Potter as his friends. He seems quite nice and you two are just twin nightmares."

"You won't say that when you're married to James," Sirius muttered as he turned away.

He ignored her indignant splutters and jogged off in the direction of the main doors and outside. Sure enough, he could see Remus's hunched figure under the willow tree.

"Moony?" He said as he reached the other boy and flopped down beside him. "Okay, mate?"

Remus gave him a rather irritated look, then sighed. "How did you find me?"

"I have my secret ways," Sirius gave Remus his best enigmatic smile.

"Sirius."

"Okay, Evans told me."

"Huh. She looked at me funny when I came down here."

"She was worried about you, Merlin only knows why. She doesn't even know you."

"I guess she was just trying to be nice." Remus ran his fingers over the page of the book in his lap, staring out over the lake. Sirius rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows to examine his friend. Remus's face looked tired and strained, even though it was still a few weeks until the next full moon.

"What  _is_ wrong, Moony?"

Remus looked away. "Nothing."

"Oh, don't give me that. I know you well enough that I can see something is bothering you."

"I just…" Remus hesitated, dropping his book to the side and drawing his knees up to rest his chin on them. "They don't know me very well," he said eventually.

"What? Who?"

"The Anders."

"Oh." Sirius frowned, unable to see where this conversation was leading. "Well, summer will give them a chance to get to know you better, I guess."

"I know," Remus said. "That's what I'm worried about."

Sirius sat up and stared at his friend in surprise. "What?"

"What if they get to know me properly and don't like me? What if the werewolf thing is too much for them to handle? You know I go all weird and childish after the full moon now. And there's lots of blood and broken bones and stuff. What if they wish they had never adopted me and want to give me back?" Remus's tone grew quieter and as he spoke, until it ended in a miserable little whisper.

"Oh, Moony!" Sirius said, draping an arm over the werewolf's shoulder. "Is that what you've been stressing about all this time?"

Remus nodded, avoiding his eyes.

"Anders knows you," Sirius pointed out, knowing that the only way to make Remus understand was by using logic. "You've written to him for almost a year. And they knew what it meant to adopt a werewolf long before they decided to. Don't forget that Neil's an Auror and Angela works in the Magical Creatures Department. You couldn't have found more suitable parents if you tried. And as for the childish thing after the full moon…" Sirius shrugged. "We've told you before – you're kind of cute. You're no problem at all as long as you're provided with a steady stream of chocolate. They'll love you, Remie."

Remus huffed disbelievingly. "' _Remie_?'"

"Dreadful isn't it? Ridiculously saccharine, yet condescending at the same time. You've got to love it."

"Believe me, I don't. Do you really think all that other stuff is true, though?" Remus turned desperate, hopeful eyes to Sirius.

"I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, mate. And hey, if it all goes wrong and you hate it there, I bet you could stay with James if you wanted. Or Pete. Not with me, though. You would hate my family."

"I'm sure I wouldn't."

"Believe me. Everyone hates my family.  _I_ hate my family. They're impossible not to hate – like ear-wax flavoured jellybeans."

Remus shook his head, smiling. "You always cheer me up," he said. "Even if you end up saying daft things like that." He reached up to touch the hand-shaped pendant that hung round his neck and Sirius smiled.

"We could run away and live on the streets if it's too horrible," he suggested. "I would come happily. The only reason I stick around at home is for Regulus. We'd have to take him with us, of course."

"We're only thirteen. We couldn't live on our own."

"Oh don't go all sensible on me. It would be fun!"

"No Sirius. It would be a complete disaster."

"Oh please!" Sirius wheedled, pouting. "You know you want to!"

Remus just shook his head and cast a quick  _tempus_ spell. "Come on, you idiot, we'll be late for Potions."

Sirius followed Remus back up to the school, noting with satisfaction that most of the strain had left the other boy's face.

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The weeks leading up to the end of term flew by in a rush of end-of-year tests and reports, and James's and Sirius's determination to get at least eight good pranks in before the holidays started. In those weeks, it was not unusual to see Snape storming by with a lime green Mohawk and a message reading "I heart Gryffindors" emblazoned across his forehead; or a group of Hufflepuffs who couldn't do anything except waddle to the hospital wing when their entire bodies except for their heads and feet had been transfigured into giant pompoms.

"They look quite adorable like that," James and Sirius defended themselves when Remus demanded to know why they had targeted innocent Hufflepuffs. "Very huffy and puffy."

Eventually, however, the Marauders found themselves on the train heading back home for the summer. Sirius tried to keep himself upbeat, but the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place made his stomach churn uncomfortably. The only thing he was looking forward to was seeing Regulus again. He tuned out of Peter and James's excited conversation about the merits of hexing Snape one last time before they arrived at the station, and stared out of the window.

"Hey, mate," James said, catching his attention by cuffing him round the head. "Want to come and find the snack trolley with us? Pete and I are starving!"

"No, that's okay," Sirius said listlessly. "I'm not really hungry."

The others stared at him. " _You're_ not hungry?" Peter demanded incredulously.

"No. You lads can go on without me."

"You okay?" James asked.

"Yeah," Sirius said, smiling weakly at his dark-haired friend. "Just – you know – going home and stuff."

"Ah." James nodded in sudden understanding. "Well, Pete and I'll bring some for you and Moony anyway. In case you both get hungry later." The two slipped out of the compartment.

"You're not hungry either?" Sirius asked, turning to Remus who was also watching him with concern.

"Yeah. Just – you know – going home and stuff," Remus teased. Sirius felt his mouth pulled into a smile of its own accord

"Git," he said fondly. "It'll be okay, thought, Moony. The Anders will love you."

"It'll be okay for you as well," Remus said, reaching out to grip Sirius's shoulder. "I'll write to you loads, I promise." He studied Sirius's face for a long moment. "I've never seen you this down before, you know. It's weird. What happened to Sirius Black – Gryffindor prankster extraordinaire?"

"I've shut him away for now," Sirius said. "He gets me into trouble at home."

"Ah, the Inner Marauder," Remus said nodding. "If you have one they have a tendency to do that."

The door swung open again and James and Peter returned with their arms full of sweets.

"Lots for everyone," Peter said, dumping a pile of chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes in both Sirius and Remus's laps.

"There is no woe so bad in this world that it cannot be cured by chocolate," James added, throwing himself down next to Sirius and munching on a licorice wand.

Half an hour and twelve chocolate frogs later, Sirius was inclined to agree. Especially when he saw Remus's face brightening slowly as he ate and James and Peter regaled them with stories of their quest for the snack trolley. Suddenly, the idea of going home didn't seem as ominous as it had. He would have his friends to write to and his little brother to keep him company. His heart only sank the smallest bit when the train arrived at platform 9 ¾ and he saw the bitter-faced figure of his mother waiting for him.


	26. Summer Holidays Second Year

**SUMMER HOLIDAYS:**

Dear Moony,

I know I only saw you a short while ago, but I thought I would write to find out how your first full moon at the Anders' went. I know you were worried about it. They thought you were cute, didn't they? DIDN'T THEY? Deny it all you like, but I know it's true. I hope all that worrying was for nothing.

Everything is okay here. My family are as awful as ever. I put laxative potion in my Grandmother's porridge because she called me good-for-nothing-Gryffindor-runt-who-should-have-been-drowned-at-birth. Strangely, Mum wasn't very happy with me. Regulus has offered to send letters for me until I can get out.

On the upside, I've some brilliant news! My family (Mum, Dad and Regulus) are going back to Italy with my Grandmother in two days. She didn't want me because of my aforementioned Gryffindor-runtishness, so I have been left behind. I am supposed to stay at home with the house elves and study proper pureblood behaviour, but James has offered for me to go and stay over at his. When she finds out, my mother will NOT be happy, but I don't care. It will be worth it to stay at the Potters for three weeks. We'll write to you and tell you what we're up to.

I'm already missing school and having all the Marauders together. I hate the dark. I can't wait to see you again, Moony.

From the Black family's favourite white sheep,

Sirius

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Reg,

Could you post this letter for me? It's to Remus Lupin. Did you hide more candles? The ones in this barrel are almost run out, and I hate sitting in the dark. I tried calling to you, but I think Mum put a silencing charm on the cellar so you couldn't hear me. Thank goodness she didn't think to stop us sliding notes under the door.

At least it will only be for two more days at the most. Then you'll all be off to Italy. I wish you weren't going. How can I look out for you if you're in a different country?

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Sirius,

It's your own folt your in there you Gryffindor idiot! I told you not to do that to Grandmother. You knew you would be fownd out. If you hate it so much in the cellar why do you  _keep_ making Mum angry?

I wish you were comming with me to Italy. I wated all year for you to come home and now I'm not even going to see you for most of it. At least I'll be comming with you to Hogwarts next year. I posted that letter to James Potter yesterday but the one to Remus Lupin will have to wait until tonight cos Mum has takin to reading my mail before I post it so I'll have to sneak it of.

There are more candels in the barril under the wooden wheelbarrow thing in the far right hand corner. I had to try and keep them as hidden as possible. I think Mum suspecs I help you while your in there.

Regulus

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Dear Sirius,

What have your parents done to you? What do you mean 'when I get out of here?' Where have they locked you? Have they hurt you? Is this why you were so protective of me when my father hurt me? Are you going through the same thing? Why didn't you ever tell me your parents did this to you? Sirius, please be okay. If they do anything – I mean ANYTHING – to hurt you, I'll come round there and do something we'll  _all_  regret. But them especially. If they've locked you anywhere dark I'll never forgive them.

I am doing absolutely fine. You were right. I think the Anders did know what they were getting into by adopting me. They didn't mind about me being like a kid after the you-know-what, though I didn't feel as comfortable with them as I do with the Marauders. I'm probably just not used to it. It's all a bit hazy as usual, but I think I actually managed to get under the bed and hide there for most of it. How embarrassing!

I'm glad you can go to James's. His mother seems really nice. She helped me get into the station in first year. You'll have fun there, I think.

Please write and tell me you're okay. I hate to think of them there abusing you. I hate that word, but now I can see why you all used it. It's different when it's happening to someone you care about. You want to do everything you can to keep them safe. Sorry if that sounds sappy.

With worry,

Remus

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Alright, Jamsie,

I know I am going to see you in about forty hours, so it's pretty pointless to write to you, but I'm worried I upset Moony. I didn't mean to. I just mentioned that I got locked up as punishment and he completely over-reacted! He sounded really angry. I can't help thinking about those Death Eaters, or those Slytherins in the corridor. If he suddenly turns up at our house raving mad and attacks my parents they're going to find out what he is, and we all know what will happen then. They're pureblood maniacs. He probably wouldn't survive to get to the Ministry. They have  _silver swords_  hanging over the fireplace.

Plus, I think he's really worried and hurt that I never said anything before. I think I really upset him and I hate doing that. Don't mention anything about my family if you write to him. I'm going to write him a letter saying everything is fine.

I'll see you in a short while, mate,

Sirius

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Hey Moony,

Listen, you completely over-reacted about my family. They're nothing like your father at all. They don't hit me. And they only punish me if I do something wrong. It's not bad. Reg takes care of me, I promise. It's nothing like what happened to you. It  _isn't_ abuse, Moony. I know why you reacted that way, but you really don't need to worry, okay? I'm going to James in a short while, and they've already let me out. I nicked some floo powder and will go from the fireplace in my parents' room.

We should all meet up in Diagon Alley at some point. We'll need to get school supplies, but we can also go to the giant Zonko's there and to the ice-cream parlour. Have you ever been there? You'll love it.

Anyway, must go. I can hear my family getting ready to go. See you soon!

Sirius

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Sirius!

Overreacted? What has your harpy of a mother done now? Did she lock you in the cellar again? Did she hit you? Remus is NOT overreacting! Just because you don't have it as bad as him, it doesn't make it less bad. I told you last summer – your family have no right to do that to you.

But I won't say anything to Moony. I agree that he shouldn't know what they do to you. It will just upset him more.

By the way, you did get your parent's permission to come didn't you? I don't want you to get punished if they come back and find out you came here without asking. You did didn't you, Sirius?

See you in a few hours,

James

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Of course I did, mate. What do you take me for? One and a half hours… yippee!

Sirius

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Moony,

Don't tell James I sneaked out. He thinks I got permission. Don't worry, though. My parents will never know. I threatened the house elves, so they won't tell. They know all about my pranks and don't want to get on the wrong side of one.

Sirius

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Alright, lads!

Remus wrote and told me that Sirius is at your house, James. That's so unfair! You get to have fun and practice Quidditch for the try-outs next year and stuff, and I have to be at home with no other Marauders and only my incredibly annoying cousins from Birmingham here for company.

They're from Mum's side of the family, so they're Muggles, which means that WE CAN'T USE MAGIC ALL SUMMER! Mum has to cook all the meals the Muggle way (not a good thing, believe me), and I have a sixteen year old girl cousin with an obsession for really flowery perfume and the colour pink staying in my room while I sleep on the sofa in the lounge.

Please, please can we meet up in Diagon Alley soon? I'm not sure how much more of this torture I can take without a dose of the Marauders. I'm only glad I wasn't Muggle-born and had to live without magic my WHOLE LIFE until I got to Hogwarts.

Hope to see you soon,

Peter

PS: If you are able to send your reply by Muggle post, that would be good. Only, we are having difficulty explaining away all the 'tame owls' in our area. My address is on the other side of this letter.

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Hey Pete!

Prank them! That's the advice of Messrs. Potter and Black, Marauders extraordinaire. Sirius says to put some hair-growth potion in your cousin's flowery perfume. He says it worked like a charm on Bellatrix, and that you get the added bonus of seeing your parents trying to explain it away to the Muggles.

Don't worry, Moony wants to go to Diagon Alley as well. We'll go as soon as our Hogwarts letters come. That should be in a few days.

Mrs. Potter just read over our shoulders as we were writing this and said you're not to take any of our good advice for pranking your Muggle cousins. She has also added that it is NOT good advice. The inner Marauder obviously comes from Mr. Potter's side of the family.

Anyway, mate, we'll write to you again soon,

James and Sirius

PS: How many stamps do you put on a Muggle letter? And do you really just drop them in those red box things and hope like hell someone will come by and get it to the right place? Muggles are so strange. We had to ask James's Dad how to work Muggle post. He's an Auror, but he took Muggle Studies at school. It still took him ages to remember the difference between a Muggle letterbox and a Muggle rubbish bin. They're both round with slits in them. We posted it in the red one, but if we don't get a reply, we'll know to go for the black one in future.

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Dear James and Sirius,

I hope you are both having a brilliant time. Neil says to send his sympathies to your parents because he couldn't imagine having to put up with the two of you in a confined space for a whole summer without going insane. Angela just tutted and said you can't be that bad. She obviously needs to get to know you better.

Peter wrote and told me about that hair-growth potion you told him to put in his Muggle cousin's perfume. You really shouldn't give him ideas like that. It's a bit cruel to her. Imagine if you didn't know about magic and hair suddenly started sprouting all over your body? You would be terrified. You should have at least encouraged him to use Muggle pranks if she's that annoying. There are some good ones, you know. Neil and Angela live in a Muggle neighbourhood and there are loads of their shops around here. You'll be amazed at the things they manage to do without magic.

Anyway, I am having a good time here. Neil and Angela's house is very small, but they have converted the basement for me (and it's not my bedroom! I only have to go in there to transform!). My bedroom is brilliant! None of the furniture is scratched or smells like blood and they said I could put posters on the wall if I like. I would, but I don't really have any.

You should see Angela when she's on holiday. Remember those giant butterflies she wore in her hair that time at school? Well, apparently, that was her dressing conservatively so she didn't unnerve us. She's got all sorts of weird and wonderful clothes. There's this really long cape with built-in wind so it billows dramatically all the time, and these silk scarves that slither around like snakes, and broaches that change colour and all sorts. She can't wear them around Muggles, but the rest of the time you have to approach her with caution in case you're attacked by her stockings or something.

I can't wait to see you lads again. My Hogwarts letter came yesterday. Can we meet up soon?

Remus

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Moony!

Here is a poster for you! I made it myself. I took a picture of James when he got knocked off his broom by a practice bludger and blew it up for you to stick on your wall. Note the way he lands on his back with his feet in the air. Did you know he had red boxers with little snitches on them? I laughed myself silly. If you tap it with your wand twice, he falls off in slow motion, which is even funnier. He made me promise to burn the photo, so I did, but I copied it first, obviously.

We're planning on going to Diagon Alley on Thursday. Are you able to come? At about eleven?

James is coming, so I better send this quickly. He looks mad. I think he knows what I'm doing.

Sirius

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Remus!

Don't you DARE stick that thing on your wall! I can't believe he DID that! He made another one and stuck it to the wall in the kitchen with a really powerful sticking charm and won't tell me how to counter it. Mum and Dad won't help. They just laugh a lot and say that it was an ingenious piece of magic to make me go in slow motion when you tap it twice. I think they're still punishing me for the porridge bath. It was brilliant, though Moony! The water comes out the taps as water, but as soon as someone sits in the bath it turns into porridge. You should have heard Mum screaming. Sirius and I were in hysterics. It took us ages to figure out how to do it. Thank goodness I'm good at transfiguration.

So are you coming on Thursday? I removed the gag from Sirius long enough to hear that he told you about us going to Diagon Alley. I hope you can.

James

PS: Don't stick that poster on your wall!

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Alright, lads!

I can come to Diagon Alley! It will be such a relief! Sheryl (my annoying cousin) is driving me CRAZY! I looked for some hair-growth potion in our cabinets, but we don't have any. Maybe I can get some in Diagon Alley. Or something better. She spilt pink nail varnish on my carpet! Right in the middle! And it has glitter in it. And my whole room smells of girl. And she has this voice that gets more and more high pitched when she gets excited. She had the cheek to ask me if I went to a special needs school the other day just because I didn't know how to use a Muggle toaster. She was serious as well! And she calls me 'Petey' and tells me I should go on a diet or I will never get a girl and will be lonely for the rest of my life. If they all act like her, it won't be a great loss. I can't wait to get away for a bit.

Peter

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Dear James and Sirius,

I can come! I'll see you on Thursday at eleven. We have a new DADA teacher again, no surprise. I wonder what they're like? I'll meet you at the floo station by the Leaky Cauldron.

See you then,

Remus

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Dear Moony,

We're so glad you and Pete came on Thursday. It wouldn't have been the same without you. Sirius says he told you that you would like the Florean's ice cream place. We don't think we've EVER seen anyone consume that much double chocolate fudge ice cream in one sitting. How do you stay so skinny?

We tried out that bubble-belch potion from Zonko's on Mum and Dad this morning. We spiked their morning coffee. It was so funny! They swelled up and started floating round the kitchen, and the only way to get down is by belching these huge lilac bubbles. Dad did it straight away with no problem, but Mum floated round for ages because she refused to do something so unladylike. Eventually, she made us all go out the room so she could belch in peace. Sirius, Dad and I were sitting on the main stairs laughing so hard we could barely breathe. Sirius and I had to re-paint three second floor bedrooms by hand as punishment. It took us all day, and we're exhausted now. But it was totally worth it!

We have included some of that itching powder we bought with this letter. Please use it on Angela or Neil. You can't call yourself a proper Marauder if you go a whole summer without pranking anyone. Write and tell us how it goes.

Only a couple of weeks until school starts again!

Wishing you mayhem and chocolate frogs,

James and Sirius

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Hi lads!

I'm writing to all of you in this letter. I'll copy it and send it to Remus as well. I finally got my own back on Sheryl! You were right, James and Sirius. That trick-perfume was BRILLIANT. I put it in her perfume bottle just before she went out with all her horrible, giggly friends (every teenage girl in our neighbourhood seemed to gravitate towards my house this summer. It's like Sheryl is a magnet for them. When they all get together they giggle and squeal and it's really unbearable).

Anyway - that trick perfume. To Sheryl, it smelt of roses and lilies, but to anyone else who is with her, it smelt like a sewer. It was awesome! She couldn't figure out why all her friends were avoiding her and trying to hold their breaths. I felt a bit guilty after a bit, though, so I threw out the bottle from her room when she was away so she wouldn't wear it again. She can't help being an air-headed, dippy cow I suppose.

Peter

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Hey Pete!

That's AWESOME! I'm so glad it worked. It must have been very funny. Did you get a photo? James and I are planning on making a Marauder scrapbook with pictures and descriptions of all the pranks and things we pull in it. Remus is going to do something with that itching power, he says.

I have to go back home in a couple of days. But at least then it's only a week until school starts. I can't wait. And Regulus will be coming as well!

Sirius (and James)

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Dear James, Sirius, and Peter (who I will copy this letter for),

Well, I pulled my obligatory summer prank. I put some of that itching power into Angela's talcum power yesterday. I do have to say it was very funny. She was sitting at breakfast and started squirming around and scratching. Neil kept asking her what was wrong and she kept saying 'nothing' and shooting me suspicious looks when I tried not to laugh. Then suddenly she leapt up with a yell and ran and jumped in the shower with all her clothes on and started scrubbing away like anything. Anyway, Neil and I were standing outside the bathroom laughing our heads off because she looked so funny. She was wearing those snake-scarves and they were putting up a great fight against getting wet.

Then suddenly she looked up and saw me laughing and yelled 'REMUS LUPIN! YOU GET BACK HERE!' and leapt out the shower and started chasing me all round the house, dripping like anything. She chased me round and round until I ran out into the garden and then she chased me up a tree and I didn't dare come down for ages. You could tell she thought it was funny because she was cackling away madly as she stood at the bottom waiting for me to come down.

Anyway, when I finally needed to go loo so badly I had to come down, she hexed me so I grew bright green polka dots and made me cook dinner that night. Do you know my cooking is as bad as my potions making? I don't think I'll be getting that punishment again. I thought it tasted quite nice, but fried lasagne didn't seem to appeal to either Neil or Angela.

Anyway, I'll see you in a week. I can't wait for school again. Much as I love it here, I miss having the Marauders around. I have included some photos for you. Neil took them, actually. He has stuck the one of Angela looking all pink and soggy and running round the house screaming at me on the wall in the living room. She is not impressed. The one of me with polka-dot skin eating fried lasagne is stuck up in the kitchen as a warning to never let me cook again.

From,

Remus


	27. Eyes in the Dark

_Night time sharpens,_

_Heightens_ _each sensation._

_Darkness stirs_

_And wakes imagination._

_Silently the senses_

_Abandon their defences._

( _From Phantom of the Opera's 'Music of the Night')_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius knew he should have been prepared for the fact that Kreacher would tell his mother about his trip to James's house. Yet, some small part of him had hoped that he hadn't become so ostracised from his family that even the house elves would no longer obey his commands. It was perhaps that – more than the punishment that followed – that hurt him the most.

He knew the moment his family returned. His mother's unmistakeable screech filled the house the second she stepped over the grate of the living room fireplace.

" _Kreacher!_ "

It was followed by Kreacher's sniveling tones as he shuffled into the living room, and even though he was hidden up in his bedroom, Sirius could picture the house elf sidling up to his mother in a bow so low that his pointed nose brushed the carpet.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Get us some tea  _right now_ , elf!"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And shut your ears in the oven as punishment for taking so long to answer me!"

"Yes, Mistress. Mistress, about the ungrateful master upstairs…"

After that, Sirius buried his head under his pillow and stopped listening. He knew what was coming – the accusations, the screaming, the punishment.

It was an hour later now – an hour filled with the specialised punishment that only a house elf on the order of its mistress could dispense. They used their magic to inflict the feeling of whips across the back of the child without leaving a mark. Sirius was very familiar with the sensation by now, but it still hurt every time.

He knelt on the floor in the kitchen, gasping and crying out as the invisible lashes rained down on his back. Even though it was one of the other house elves carrying out the punishment, Sirius could hear Kreacher chucking in the corner, his bat-like ears still smoking from being shut in the oven door. At that moment, he hated the house elf more than he had hated anything in his life. He swore to himself that if Kreacher was ever passed on to him, he would make his life a living hell.

He was almost glad when it was finally over and he was shoved, crying and gasping towards the cellar and shut in. That was until he realised that the candles hidden for him by Regulus had run out and his brother had not had the chance to hide any more.

The pain – that only lasted while the punishment was being carried out – was gone, so even that didn't distract his attention from the fact that he was alone in the damp, mouldy darkness. Sirius tried to fight the wave of panic that rose in his chest. He  _hated_ himself for being afraid of the dark. It was a stupid, childish, irrational fear, but it was a fear nonetheless. He felt his way over to a wine barrel in the middle of the room and sat on it, drawing his legs up and wrapping his arms around them.

Eyes – that was what he feared the most. The thought of  _eyes_ in the dark. Eyes that could see him and everything he was doing while he was completely blind and vulnerable. He swore he could feel them fixed on him now, trying to find out whether he could see; to assess exactly how helpless he was. He tried to glare back to show he wasn't afraid, but he had no idea where to look. He imagined the owners of the eyes creeping closer and closer and closer…

"Sirius!"

Sirius gave a cry of alarm and toppled off his barrel with a crash.

"Sirius? It's me! Regulus!"

Sirius turned his face blindly towards where the voice was coming from. He could see the tiniest sliver of light that came in under the door.

"R-R-Reg?"

"Yes. She was so mad she forgot to put the silencing charm on. I'm sorry I couldn't give you more candles."

Sirius crept closer to the door, his heart hammering. The sound of his brother's voice caused the staring-eyes to back away a little. He knelt down and tried to peer under the door.

"Reg?"

"Yes. I've told you already - it's me."

"No candles?"

"How can I get you candles? The door's locked."

"Yes." Sirius pressed his face closer to the precious light that filtered in under the door. "Reg?"

"What?"

"How long will I be in here?"

"I dunno, Sirius. She was  _really_ mad. She probably won't let you out until school starts."

"But that's a  _week_!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I  _did_ tell you not to wind her up, you know. I  _always_ tell you and you never listen, you daft Gryffindor."

"A  _week_!"

There was a short silence from the other side of the door, then "I have to go now. If Mum, or one of the elves, finds me down here there will be hell to pay."

"No wait! Reg!"

"I  _can't!_  You know I can't."

"But – "

"I'm sorry, Sirius."

Regulus shuffled to his feet and Sirius heard his footsteps moving away, up the stairs and to the kitchen. Sirius slowly turned from the light coming under the door and stared apprehensively into the room, where he knew the staring-eyed creatures began approaching him once more. His breathing grew fast and erratic as they drew nearer. Closer, closer, closer…

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Sirius couldn't remember anything being as wonderful as the sight of the Hogwarts Express standing at platform 9 ¾. The large scarlet steam train represented freedom - his return to the only place he really considered home, and the only people, aside from Regulus, who he had ever really loved. It had been worth it, he kept telling himself. That last week of hell had been worth the three wonderful weeks with the Potters.

His mother was so angry she refused to speak to him – even to say goodbye or threaten him about what would happen if he misbehaved. Sirius hung a little way away from his family, watching as Regulus was smothered with motherly affection as he stood awkwardly by his new trunk, clutching the cage of his new owl. Sirius told himself he did  _not_ feel jealous that he had not been given a pet. It was his own fault – not Regulus's – that his family hated him.

"Sirius?"

Sirius jumped as a hand touched his shoulder and swung round. Remus looked at him in alarm. "Are you okay? You look very pale."

"I'm fine," Sirius said, not even having to fake the smile he gave. He felt his whole mood lift at the sight of his friend. Remus had grown a little over the summer, but not nearly as much as Sirius or James who were both shooting up like weeds. His hair was a little longer than it had been – the tawny locks flopping forward into his amber eyes so he had to shake them out in a rather canine gesture. Sirius smiled at the sight. Remus would never have allowed himself to do anything that hinted at his wolf side without automatically shrinking back in horror before this summer. Obviously, the Anders were good for him.

"I'm so glad we're back," Remus said, putting his trunk down and sitting on it. He looked pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Sirius remembered that the full moon was the next day. "I missed you lads," Remus added, looking a bit abashed at the statement.

"I missed you too," Sirius said and his heart gave a happy squeeze when he saw Remus's face brighten in return.

"Shall we go to the train?" Remus asked.

"I'm just waiting for my brother." Sirius gestured towards his family. His mother caught sight of him and her eyes shifted to Remus. A perfect pureblood sneer formed on her face and she deliberately turned her back. Remus looked stricken.

"What did I do?" he asked, an expression of guilt alighting on his face.

Sirius sighed and ruffled his friend's hair affectionately. "You didn't do anything, Moony. Honestly. Have a bit of faith in yourself. That's just the patented Black sneer designed and used by my family for generations whenever they are forced to observe Gryffindors."

"She looks at you like that?" Remus looked at Sirius in growing alarm.

Sirius felt something tighten inside him as he saw the worry in Remus's eyes. "Don't worry about it, Rem. I don't have to see her for ages."

Remus opened his mouth to say more, but Regulus finally broke free of his mother's clutches and headed towards Sirius. "Mum says you're not to corrupt me," he said, rolling his eyes. "She says if I end up in Gryffindor, there will be hell to pay for you."

Sirius smiled and treated his departing mother's back to a rather crude hand gesture. "If you end up in Gryffindor, I will consider my corruption a success," he said to his little brother, giving him a wink.

"I don't want to be in Gryffindor," Regulus said. "It looks painful."

"Nonsense!" Sirius said airily. "This is Remus. Remus, this is my brother, Regulus."

Remus stood up and held out his hand to the first year. Regulus shook it shyly. "Don't worry if you get into Slytherin," Remus told the smaller boy reassuringly. "Not everyone who comes out of it is evil, no matter what your brother or James say."

Sirius groaned. "You have too much faith in people, Moony."

"Slughorn was Slytherin," Remus pointed out as they headed towards the train dragging their trunks behind them.

"I rest my case," Sirius said, pulling his trunk up the train steps and reaching down to help Regulus with his.

"He's not evil, Sirius," Remus said reprovingly. "Ambitious, but not evil. You only don't like him because he favours Snape."

"Exactly!" Sirius said, as though Remus had been agreeing with him.

Remus sighed and gave up as they searched for a compartment.

"Oi, lads!" a familiar voice called to them from down the corridor. "In here."

Grinning, Sirius bounded towards the compartment dragging his trunk while Remus and Regulus trailed behind him.

" _James!_ " He grabbed his friend in a headlock and ground his knuckles into the messy black hair.

"Nng! Sirius, get off!" James's muffled voice yelled as his hands made ineffectual swipes at his attacker.

"Sirius, leave the poor bloke alone," Remus edged round the two of them, rolling his eyes at Sirius's triumphant expression. "Don't mind them, Regulus. You get used to it after a while. Come in. This is Peter Pettigrew and the one who's going purple from suffocation due to your brother's homicidal tendencies is James Potter."

Regulus also edged around the tussling boys in the doorway and smiled at Peter. "Hello."

"Oh cute!" James exclaimed, finally breaking free, flopping down on the seat opposite Regulus and planting his feet on Peter's lap. "Look. It's a pint-sized Sirius."

"He has a name, James," Remus said.

"Yeah – Mini-Siri!"

Sirius grinned as his brother blushed. He felt a rush of gratitude towards his friends for treating his brother kindly even though they knew he would most likely end up in Slytherin. He had never doubted Remus, but he hadn't been sure as to how James would react.

"So… worried about the Giant Squid?" Peter asked Regulus, kicking James's feet off his lap.

"Er… should I be?"

"You should," James said solemnly. "I heard that three first years didn't make it over the lake last year."

" _What?_ "

"Yup," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Once minute – happily paddling away in their boat. Next minute – Squid food."

"Really?" Regulus's grey eyes turned towards Remus, much to Sirius's amusement. Apparently his little brother had already guessed that Remus was the most trustworthy Marauder of the group.

"Don't listen to them," Remus said reassuringly. "The Squid almost always flings back anyone who falls in."

"Remus, you always ruin my fun." Sirius pouted and dropped down onto the seat between Remus and his brother.

"Well, you're being harsh."

"That's what little brothers are  _for_."

"What do you mean 'almost always'?" Regulus asked Remus, obviously not willing to let the subject drop until he was sure he wouldn't end up as Squid chowder.

"Sometimes they swim to safety themselves," Remus reassured him. He stood up to push his trunk under the seat and swayed a bit before dropping back beside Sirius.

"Are you okay, Moony?" Peter asked, watching him.

"Yes, just getting over the flu," Remus said, sending a quick glance in Regulus's direction. Peter often spoke without thinking of the consequences.

" _Oh_ ," Peter said, light dawning on his face, "that  _flu_ you have."

"Anyway," James said quickly, to avert a potentially dangerous situation, "Sirius and I were practising Quidditch over the holidays. We're going to try out for the house team."

"I don't think I'm good enough," Peter said mournfully. "Remember that time I crashed in first year."

"Yeah, that could only be described as  _chronically_  bad flying, Pete," Sirius agreed, grinning as he remembered.

"Well, I didn't see it in time to stop."

"Peter, it was  _Hogwarts_. Five billion tons of solid stone _castle._ " In spite of his words, James couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"I had my eyes closed so I would forget I was off the ground."

"Idiot."

Sirius opened his mouth to say more when he felt a weight drop onto his shoulder. He glanced sideways and felt tawny hair brush his cheek. Remus's eyes were closed; his lips parted a little as he slept. Sirius caught a trace of that chocolate-and-autumn-leaves smell he remembered from the time he held Remus in the hospital wing. A wave of protectiveness flooded his chest.

"I always wonder how he does that," James said, looking at Remus with interest.

"What?" Peter asked.

"You know," James said, "Just dozing off wherever he is. One minute he's lecturing us on proper sneaking methods, then suddenly –  _boomph_! Out for the count."

"He does that often?" Regulus asked, though when Sirius glanced towards his brother he noticed the grey eyes were looking at  _him_ curiously, rather than at Remus. For a moment he was confused, then he realised that, in the Black family, physical contact was very rare. It must look odd to see his older brother sitting comfortably while his friend slept curled up against his shoulder. He would have pulled away in embarrassment, but he didn't want to disturb Remus.

"Remus gets ill a lot," he said to his brother defensively. "He needs to sleep sometimes."

"He  _doesn't_ look very well," Regulus conceded, studying Remus's pale, sleeping face. He glanced back at Sirius. "It's okay. I know you can't help it – you're a Gryffindor."

James and Peter looked bemused by the comment, but Sirius relaxed and smiled at Regulus. He knew what Regulus was really telling him.  _I don't judge you for losing your Black-family coldness. I don't hate you for being a Gryffindor._

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Sirius couldn't claim to be very surprised when the hat called out "Slytherin!" a few moments after his brother put it on. As soon as the hat was removed, Regulus's eyes sought Sirius's and his expression was full of apology. Sirius smiled at him reassuringly, making sure to hide the fact that his heart was sinking rapidly in his chest. He hoped desperately that the Slytherins wouldn't corrupt his brother, but he knew that Regulus was one of life's followers – a little like Peter. He loved them both, but he wasn't sure that either could stand up under the pressure of their peer's opinions. Peter was lucky that his own particular brand of bravery had got him sorted into Gryffindor, but Regulus was at risk. Sirius wondered how long it would be before his brother turned his back on him just like the rest of his family.

He felt a hand squeeze his arm and look into James's worried face. "He'll be okay, Sirius. We won't prank him."

"It's not that James," Sirius said. "It's just that… I think the Slytherins will change him."

"Have faith in him. He's your brother – Pint-size Sirius."

"You don't understand!" Sirius said. "He looks like me, but he's  _not_ me. I'm scared for him."

"He'll be fine," James insisted.

Sirius looked away and amber eyes met his own across the table. He saw understanding in them and compassion. Remus knew the cruelties of the world. He had no illusions about family or loyalty. Remus understood, and knew that sometimes there was nothing you could do but accept the burdens the world chose to throw at you and carry on.

That understanding was almost more painful that James's naïve reassurances.

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"Hey, Moony," James said, as the four of them unpacked their trunks in their dorm later that night. "Guess what I found in the Potter library last week?"

Remus looked up from where he was stashing chocolate into his bedside cabinet. "What? And don't tell me you were in there looking for some light reading because I won't believe you."

James grinned and pulled a couple of books out of his trunk. He bounced over and flung himself onto Remus's bed. "No," he agreed. "It was raining outside and the library is the biggest room in the house. I needed to practice my flying."

"You were  _flying_ in the library!" Remus asked, shocked. "That's terrible, James!"

"Yeah, Mum thought so too." James looked mournful. "But before I was caught, I was floating up near the Magical Creatures section and I spotted some werewolf books that you didn't have and that weren't in the library. I brought them for you to read if you like."

Sirius smiled as Remus's face lit up and he reached for the books. "Oh, James... thank you!"

"They're old ones," James said. "That's probably why you couldn't buy them. Also they're quite nice about werewolves, which is probably why the library doesn't have them."

Sirius scowled at that thought and wandered over to join his friends on Remus's bed. Peter nicked a chocolate frog from the open drawer of the bedside cabinet and sat beside Sirius. Remus was so absorbed in one of the books he didn't even notice.

"So what does it say?" Sirius prompted, leaning over to try and read the page Remus was on upside-down.

"It's brilliant." Remus turned the page. "This chapter goes into much more detail about werewolf psychology than any other book I've read. Most of them focus on the physical aspects of being a werewolf." He paused, reading. "Listen to this –  _A werewolf will only target humans to attack as their natural prey. Animals are safe from werewolf attacks unless it is provoked and the werewolf can sometimes even accept their company. A study by Oswen Debonair in 1643 indicates that having an animal to keep it company could even aid a werewolf through the pain of its transformation, though most studies were inconclusive as animals were found to be unwilling to spend time in a confined area with a creature that is so clearly a powerful predator._ "

"We could get you a dog," Sirius said, feeling a surge of inspiration as Remus read. "To keep you company so you didn't hurt yourself so much!"

Remus sighed and shook his head. "Weren't you listening? I would frighten a dog. Or any animal. I wouldn't want to do that – have them sitting there cowering in the corner while I paced and howled and raved."

Sirius scowled. "Well we have to do  _something_  to help you!"

"You  _are_!" Remus said. "All of you." He hesitated for a moment, then reached over into his own trunk and pulled out one of his own well-read werewolf books. He paged through it for a few seconds and Sirius didn't miss the fact that the smaller boy's shoulders were very tense. "Listen to this –  _Even in human form, part of the mind will always have canine overtones. It is not uncommon for a werewolf to form a 'pack' with those humans he/she cares about most_."

There was a long silence between the four of them and Remus looked down into his lap with a flush of humiliation on his cheeks. Sirius felt a smile begin to blossom on his face. "We're your pack?" his voice cracked embarrassingly

"I'm sorry," Remus mumbled, without looking up. "I can't help it. It's Moony's influence."

"Sorry?" James said. "Why? This is  _brilliant!_  We're not just the Marauders – we're also a werewolf pack We're the best friends ever! Nothing will ever come between us."

Remus looked up in disbelief. "You don't mind?"

"Why would we mind?" asked Peter, putting an arm around Remus. Sirius felt an inexplicable twinge that it wasn't  _him_ who had his arm round the werewolf. Wasn't it  _his_ job to hug Remus? Even as he thought this, he knew it was ridiculous. The others had just as much right to show their affection as he did.

"I thought that maybe you would feel weird," Remus explained. "It's sort of animalistic – being part of a pack. I thought it might freak you out."

"Well," Sirius said, reaching out to pat his knee, "you thought wrong. We think it's awesome."

Remus smiled that same smile that he had used when they had told him they were his friends in the library almost a year ago. Unlike most of his smiles it lit up his whole face, filling his eyes and seeming to chase away the ever-present shadows for just the briefest moment.

"Thank you," was all he said. But it was enough.


	28. Transfiguration and Pincushions

_Animals are such agreeable friends - they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms._

_(George Eliot)_

**REMUS:**

Remus trailed his friends to breakfast the next day feeling decidedly un-hungry. It was the full moon that night, and his nervousness about the upcoming year meant that it would probably be a rough transformation. He was aware of Sirius's grey eyes – still heavy with sleep - flicking worried glances at him throughout breakfast as he picked at his food.

"All right, Moony?" Sirius asked eventually, putting an arm around Remus's shoulders.

"'Course," Remus said, ducking his head so the other boy couldn't see quite how pale and strained he looked.

"Maybe you should take the day off and rest in the dorms," Sirius said.

Remus forgot about hiding his face and stared up at Sirius in alarm. "No! It's the first day of classes. I'm not going to miss it."

"Merlin, Moony," James said, leaning across the table as he caught sight of Remus's face. "You  _do_ look like hell."

"Worse than usual," Peter agreed.

"Cheers, lads," Remus said, shrugging off Sirius's arm and feeling surprised when he found himself missing the protective warmth. "You certainly know how to raise a bloke's self esteem."

"You really do look bad, Lupin," said a bossy voice from beside Peter. "Maybe you should go and see Madame Pomfrey."

Remus glanced up to see Lily Evans studying him with wide green eyes. Her friend, Alice, who was sitting next to her, seemed as confused by her concern as the Marauders.

"Butt out, Evans," Sirius said. "It's none of your business."

"It  _is_ my business!" she said, flicking her long red hair over one shoulder and scowling at Sirius. "He's a fellow Gryffindor who's ill. Don't you remember Professor McGonagall's lecture at the beginning of first year? 'Your house will be like your family.'"

" _We're_ his family," Peter put in timidly. He never felt comfortable talking to girls, but his bond with the Marauders seemed to outweigh this fear. Remus tried not to show quite how touched he was by the words.

Lily opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, who was handing out timetables. Lily took hers, but reached out to stop the professor from moving on. "Wait! Professor!"

McGonagall turned questioningly. "What is it Miss Evans?"

"Don't you think Lupin should go to the hospital wing?"

Professor McGonagall turned to glance at Remus and her face grew concerned. "Are you alright, Mr. Lupin? Maybe you  _should_  go to the Hospital Wing." Remus didn't miss the way her eyes flicked up to the charmed ceiling as if the daytime sky reminded her of that night's full moon.

Remus flushed at all the attention, ducking his head again. "I don't want to. I want to go to lessons."

"If you're ill, you shouldn't push yourself."

"I'm not, I'm fine!" Remus was unable to keep himself from snapping. Moony was close to the surface and didn't like this invasion of his human counter-part's privacy.

McGonagall sighed. "Very well, but you may leave any of your lessons if you feel unwell." She moved on to continue handing out timetables and Remus dropped his head into his hands, feeling bad about snapping when he know Professor McGonagall had only been trying to help.

"See what you did!" Sirius said, glaring at Lily.

"Sirius, lay off," James said. "She was only trying to help."

"Oh, don't stand up for her, James. She's just a nosy busybody."

"I'm  _not!_ " Lily said indignantly. "I'm –"

Remus didn't wait to hear the rest. The raised voices were making his head hurt and his stomach was churning at the sight of all the food. Stupid start-of-term nerves - they always made him worse. He got up from the table without a word and headed towards the doors.

"Moony!" He heard Sirius hurrying after him. "I'm sorry, mate. I know you hate it when we argue."

Remus shook his head. "I'm just not in the mood right now, Sirius."

"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

Remus always found it odd that Sirius apologised to him so easily. Getting an apology from him for anyone else was like drawing blood from a stone. He would usually just laugh it off, or cuff whoever it was over the head in a friendly way.

Remus glanced up at Sirius who was still eyeing him.

"It's true, though, Remus. You really don't look good."

"I can't help what I look like. Bad genes, you know."

Sirius smiled. "You know that's not what I meant. You're a very handsome bloke. Give it a year or so and all the girls will be flocking 'round you."

Remus gave a disbelieving snort as he looked at his friend. Sirius – although he remained oblivious to the fact – had already attracted the attention of a large portion of Hogwarts' female population. His smooth black hair fell in gentle waves to his ears and his aristocratic features and dark-lashed grey eyes gave him an unconscious sense of elegance – something neither James, Remus or Peter could ever hope to imitate. Everything about Sirius screamed high-class pureblood - until the moment that the wicked Marauder's grin would alight on his face.

Remus was very aware that he was short, skinny and scarred. He knew that his clothes were too shabby, his eyes too big, and his manner too shy to ever come close to Sirius's sex appeal.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Sirius asked, still studying him with interest.

Remus flushed. "Whatever, Sirius." He pulled out his new timetable and studied it. "Look, Transfiguration first. If you're done with breakfast shall we make our way there?"

Sirius gave an eloquent shrug. "Okay, then." They started down the corridor in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom. "You just wait, though. They'll be flocking, I tell you.  _Flocking_."

"What're you talking about now?" Remus asked in exasperation, still looking at his timetable.

"The girls!"

"Honestly!" Remus shoved his timetable in his pocket and shook his head. "You know as well as I do that even if they were – which they won't be, by the way – I couldn't do anything with them."

"Why?"

"Well, what if they found out about – you know?"

"Well, don't tell them."

"Yeah, because that's a great basis to start a relationship on. Don't tell them about half of who I am."

Sirius was uncharacteristically silent for the rest of the way to the classroom. They were the first ones there and headed automatically for their seats at the back of the room. After a while Remus became worried by the lack of his friend's usual chatter. He looked over to Sirius and saw a crease of worry between his arching black brows.

"Hey," he said, putting a hand on the other boy's arm. "Don't worry about it. Really."

"Bit it's  _unfair_."

"Story of my life. It really is okay. I promise."

" _We_ understood. I'm sure you'll find a girl who will as well."

"I know," Remus said agreeably. "Of course I will. That's why you mustn't worry."

Sirius's expression relaxed a bit and he smiled. "Of course you will."

The door opened and more students began to enter. They shared this class with the Ravenclaws, so they were not the only ones who came early. Sirius and Remus began pulling out their own parchment and quills. Remus was glad he had been able to put Sirius's mind at rest. He hated having people worry about him. Any white lie was worth it to see that peculiar expression of adult concern disappear. And Remus knew it had been a white lie. Actually, probably closer to a black one. He knew he would never allow himself to become that close to anyone. He couldn't put that burden on some poor girl's shoulders.

No, he could never allow that to happen. Forming the Marauder pack had been bad enough. He'd really had no right to bind his friends to him in that way. They didn't mind now, but the duty they felt to protect him and care for him would one day come back on them with a vengeance.

"Hey, lads!"

Remus was shaken out of his thought by the arrival of James and Peter who both eyed him with worry. He forced a smile for them and was relieved to see them grin back.

"Alright, Moony?" James asked, as he and Peter slid into the seat in front of Remus and Sirius.

"Of course."

"Settle down ladies and gentlemen!" Professor McGonagall said from the front of the class. "You're in third year now, and I expect your work to improve accordingly."

Remus sat back in his chair and began to take notes.

"This year, we'll be moving on to study Transfiguration in animals and humans. As I'm sure you are all aware, Transfiguration on a living creature is much harder to perform that on an inanimate object. Potions that transfigure people or animals are usually very complicated and spells that do the same are even more difficult. Observe."

With that, she promptly changed into a tabby cat with spectacle-like markings round its eyes.

"Bloody hell!" Frank said from the front of the class. "Are we going to learn how to do that?"

Professor McGonagall changed back and looked towards Frank. " _Language_ , Mr. Longbottom. That was an animagus transformation. It's a very difficult process to complete and takes years of study and some very complicated spells and potions. There are very few wizards and witches who become animagi and those that do have to be registered at the Ministry. We will  _not_ be learning that this year, or any other year for that matter. I was merely demonstrating one type of human transfiguration. You, of course, will all be starting much smaller. Today you will be attempting to transfigure hedgehogs into pincushions."

She pointed towards a large basket against the wall by her desk. "Please come and  _gently_ collect a hedgehog. I will not tolerate cruelty towards these animals. You will take them back to your desk and attempt the transfiguration. The wand movement is an upward flick and a clockwise circle. The incantation is  _ericius mutatio._  Observe."

She leant over the basket and gently lifted out a hedgehog. She placed it on her desk and demonstrated the spell. " _Ericius mutatio!_ " The hedgehog turned into a tan-coloured pincushion with silver pins stuck all over it. " _Finite incantatem!_ " The hedgehog reappeared looking rather surprised.

"That is so cool," Sirius murmured to Remus.

"Poor hedgehog," Remus said in return.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Come on, you idiot."

Remus followed the dark-haired boy to the front of the class and peered down into the basket. The hedgehogs – seeming to sense the presence of a dark creature – all made a bid to scramble to the other side of the basket as quickly as they could. All except one, who peered sleepily up at Remus for a few seconds before opening its tiny mouth in a yawn.

Remus leant down and picked it up gently. Its spines tickled the palms of his hands as he held it against his chest. It didn't seem frightened in the least. Remus was rather unnerved. Aside from Brutus, who would love anyone who came accompanied by sausages, he had never met a creature that wasn't at least wary of him before.

"My hedgehog's not frightened of me," Remus said as he and Sirius returned to their desk.

"So?"

"Well, most animals are. Except for some magical ones. And some of the braver dogs."

Sirius looked surprised. "What? Even when you're not all wolfy?"

Remus flushed and glanced around to make sure no one had overheard. "Well, obviously it's worse when I am," he said, "But even now. Look."

He leaned towards Sirius's hedgehog and it eyed him with alarm before promptly curling up in a protective ball. His own sat quietly on the desk in front of him watching with sleepy interest.

"Maybe it's a magic hedgehog?" James said. He and Peter had swizzled their chairs around so they could listen to the conversation as well.

"Maybe it's suicidal?" Peter added.

"It doesn't look suicidal, just bored," Sirius said.

Remus reached out to stroke the animal and smiled when it butted its head towards his hand.

"I think it's just fallen under the Moony-charm," James said.

"Gentlemen, if you don't begin practising, I will separate you!" Professor McGonagall said, coming over to see how they were doing and frowning when she saw a distinct lack of pincushions.

James and Peter hurriedly reached for their own hedgehogs that had been waiting patiently on their tables and put them on Remus's and Sirius's desk. The hedgehogs spotted Remus and curled up defensively.

"I feel so mean," Remus said.

"It's not your fault, mate," James assured him. "Watch this.  _Ericius mutatio!_ " The hedgehog in front of him shimmered and changed into a pincushion.

"It's still furry," Sirius pointed out.

"I'd like to see you so any better, Black."

"Fine." Sirius cleared his throat and waved his wand at his rolled-up hedgehog. " _Ericius mutatio!_ "

The hedgehog's spines turned silver, but otherwise there was no change. "Damn!"

"See!" James sniggered. "Not as easy as it looks."

When Peter tried, his hedgehog uncurled a little and its legs disappeared. By this time, James had managed to rid his own of fur.

"Come on, Moony, give it a go," Sirius said.

"I don't want to," Remus said, pulling his hedgehog protectively into his lap. "What if I hurt him?"

"How do you know it's a 'him?'"

"I can smell that he is."

The others stared at him. "Really?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Remus said, blushing. "I can. Especially with warm-blooded creatures."

"That's a bit weird, you know," Peter said.

Remus flushed, wishing he had kept his mouth shut. It  _was_ weird – weird and primitive and animalistic. He bit his lip and avoided their eyes, keeping his gaze fixed on the animal in his lap. It appeared to have gone to sleep.

"It's not weird!" Sirius said, and Remus glanced up in time to see him shooting Peter a poisonous glare.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that, Moony!" Peter said, looking suddenly horrified. "I didn't mean it meanly! I just…" he looked at a loss for words.

"It's okay, Pete," Remus said, still avoiding their eyes. "I know you didn't mean it."

"You can use my hedgehog," Sirius offered, giving it a shove in Remus's direction, and causing it to roll up tighter.

"N-no. I'm not really in the m-mood." Remus  _hated_ how he stuttered at times like this. It reminded him vividly of his father's trial. It didn't help that he was feeling ill and drained due to the approaching full moon. His hedgehog butted his hand gently, as if sensing his need for comfort. Remus wondered if it really was a bit magical.

"I really  _am_ sorry," Peter said, his voice thick with guilt. "You know I never think before I talk."

"It's really okay," Remus forced himself to look up at his smallest friend. "It's the m-moon. Not you."

"Do you want to leave?" James asked. "McGonagall said you could."

Remus shook his head wordlessly.

The others regarded him with worry, but when Remus refused to say any more, they reluctantly went back to their work. Remus sat quietly beside Sirius and stroked his hedgehog's small head. He didn't look up when Sirius reached out and squeezed his hand, but felt his mood lighten a little. He squeezed back and Sirius shot him a quick smile, before removing his hand and attempting the spell again.

By the end of the lesson, both Sirius and James could do the spell perfectly, though Peter's pincushion had a hedgehog's head and his pins were brown.

Remus couldn't bring himself to try the spell at all. Professor McGonagall noticed, but said nothing.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

That evening, it was with even more reluctance that usual that Remus pulled his outdoor cloak out of his trunk and got ready to head out to the hospital wing to meet Madame Pomfrey. Peter, James, and Sirius were playing exploding snap on Sirius's bed, meaning that the bedclothes currently looked rather singed.

As Remus got ready to go, Sirius rolled off his bed and put a hand on the werewolf's shoulder. "Do you want us to come with you to the Hospital Wing?"

Remus was tempted, but shook his head. He didn't want any of his pack members in danger of detention for being out after curfew.

"We won't get caught. We'll go under James's invisibility cloak."

"No," Remus said, pulling on his cloak. "I'm fine, Sirius. Just…will you look after Hamish for me while I'm gone?"

"Hamish?" James asked.

"Um…" Remus gestured towards his bed and blushed a bit when Sirius peered down and let out an incredulous laugh when he spotted the hedgehog sleeping comfortably on Remus's scarlet pillow.

"You nicked your hedgehog from Transfiguration?"

"Not exactly," Remus said, ducking his head.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" James asked, grinning and wandering over to pick up the hedgehog. Hamish wriggled a bit in protest, but settled again in the messy-haired boy's arms.

"I  _rescued_  him," Remus said.

Sirius laughed. "Rescued him from what?"

"A life as half a pincushion," Remus said. "The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had Transfiguration after us. Can you imagine what might happen to poor innocent hedgehogs in their hands?"

"He has a point," Peter said. "I would hate to have Snivellus hunched over me dripping grease everywhere."

The others screwed up their faces at the image. "That's vile, Pete," Sirius complained.

"I have to go." Remus glanced towards the rapidly darkening sky out the window.

"We'll watch Hamish for you, mate," James said, carrying the hedgehog over to Sirius's bed where the exploding snap cards still smoked gently.

"Don't you dare play exploding snap with him in your lap," Remus said in alarm.

"I won't!" James said. "What do you take me for?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Remus ducked the tickling hex James sent his way, gave the others a wave, and headed out to the hospital wing to be escorted to the Whomping Willow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The extremely talented Mischief Managers have made an excellent video of this scene, which you can check out at the link below! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1T_e1hWp5Z0&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE


	29. A Hedgehog Named Hamish

_"That's what a friend is for: When you're lost in darkness and searching for the light, to help you through those lonely nights, when everything around you fails - just hold out your hand, and I'll come running. That's what a friend is for."  
(Marty Keith)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius could not sleep that night. He kept thinking about Remus alone in that blood-soaked room, screaming with the pain of the transformation. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Remus's little pointed face lengthening and spouting fur. He could see those amber eyes slowly losing their human sanity; hands warping, cracking, changing into clawed paws that then proceeded to rip and slash and hurt. As always, he thought about blood. Blood and moonshadows.

Since finding out about Remus's condition, Sirius rarely slept well on full moon nights. This night, however, was even worse than usual. It was going to be a rough moon for Remus. He knew from reading bits of the books James brought from Potter Manor that the more agitated a werewolf was before the transformation, the more likely his wolf side was to become angry and frustrated.

Sirius groaned into his pillow and rolled over again restlessly in his bed.

"Sirius?"

He stilled as he heard James's quiet whisper from the bed beside his.

"Yeah?"

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Nor me."

Sirius sat up and pulled aside his curtains. He could just make out the messy head peering short-sightedly at him through the curtains of the bed beside his.

"Come here so we don't wake Pete," James suggested.

Sirius climbed out of his bed and padded over to James's. He sat on top of the covers and sighed as he looked at his friend. James cast _lumos_  and a silencing charm so they wouldn't wake their fellow Marauder before putting his glowing wand back on the bedside table.

"Yeah," James said, "me too."

"'You too' what?"

"I'm also worried about him. He was upset today and we know that's never a good thing."

Sirius huffed, wondering if he was really that easy to read, or whether James just knew him too well.

"It's not hard to guess what you're stressing about," James said, sounding amused. "You  _always_ worry about him."

"It's not my fault," Sirius said defensively. "He's hurting and… and… eccentric and he needs people to worry about him."

"I know. No need to bite my head off. Why d'you think I'm still awake?"

There was a rustling from the basket James had transfigured from an old shirt that now sat on his bedside cabinet next to his wand.

"Look, you woke up Hamish!" Sirius accused as he reached over to pick up the basket and draw it into his lap. The hedgehog blinked up at him in the light of James's wand.

"We should take him with us tomorrow morning," James said. "I bet Moony'd love to see him."

"We'll have to sneak him in," said Sirius. "I don't think Madame Pomfrey likes animals in her hospital wing."

"True. But they don't call us Marauders for nothing! Come on - time to plan Operation Smuggle Hamish."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Honestly, mate."

"What?"

"Why don't we just wrap his basket in your invisibility cloak?"

James sulked. "Well, that was no fun."

"Idiot."

"Git."

"Snivellus."

"Oi! That was below the belt."

Sirius yawned, surprised to feel a wave of tiredness was over him now that he knew he had someone to share the burden of worrying. "Budge over. I'm going to sleep."

"Hey!" James protested, as Sirius proceeded to replace Hamish, lie down, steal all his covers, and shove him to the edge of his bed. "This is my bed. If you're going to sleep, do it in your own."

"C'n't be both'red," Sirius mumbled.

"Get off, you lump."

Sirius ignored him, thinking about Remus and wondering what the wolf was doing to him now.

"Fine!" James said, standing up and stalking over to Sirius's bed. "Just know that I'll remember this the next time you want to borrow my invisibility cloak."

Sirius didn't answer, staring out the half-open curtains as the full moon hovering white and vicious in an indigo sky.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Peter, OW!" Sirius hissed, as the four of them made their way to the hospital wing early the next morning.

"Well, if you're going to put your toe under my foot it's going to get stood on," Peter said grumpily. He was still half asleep and if he hadn't been sharing the invisibility cloak with the two dark-haired Marauders, Sirius was sure he would have walked into a wall by now.

"We're almost there, lads," James said. "Good thing too. I don't think I could bear you huffing down my neck for much longer, Sirius."

Sirius deliberately huffed harder, causing James to give a girly squeak and stumble out from under the cloak.

"Hey! Watch Hamish!" Sirius made a grab for Hamish's basket as it almost slipped from James's hands.

"It would have been  _your_ fault if I'd dropped him!" James snipped. They reached the doors to the hospital wing. "Here, pass me the cloak."

Sirius and Peter ducked out from under the cloak and Peter passed it over for James to wrap around Hamish's basket.

"What if he suffocates?" Sirius asked.

"It's only for a short while."

They headed into the hospital wing. There was no sign of Madame Pomfrey, so they went straight to the door of Remus's room and opened it. They stopped in surprise when they spotted Angela and Neil Anders already inside.

James clutched the covered basket to his chest and moved behind Sirius.

"Um… hello, Professor," Sirius said awkwardly. "We didn't know you'd be here."

"We thought he might like us to be here his first full moon back," Angela said. She looked at them curiously, taking note of the chocolate in Sirius and Peter's arms. "Do you come here every full moon?"

"Er… yes," Sirius said. "Didn't Madame Pomfrey tell you?"

Neil opened his mouth to reply when a small voice called out, "Sir'us!"

Everyone in the room turned to look at the bed. Remus had evidently been hiding under the covers until now. His tawny hair was mussed and static as his eyes peered over the edge of his duvet.

"Hey Moony!" Sirius smiled, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. "How are you today?"

"Moony hurt!"

"I know, I'm sorry."

"He talks to you?" Angela asked in amazement. "He usually just hides when we're here."

"Well," Sirius said, biting his lip. He didn't want them to feel hurt by Remus's unresponsiveness. "We've been with him for lots more than you have. It took him time to get used to us. Also we…" He glanced over at James and Peter who shrugged, then nodded resignedly. "We're kind of his pack."

"I'm sorry?" Neil said, blinking in amazement.

"His pack. Moony calls us his pack."

"Sir'us!" Sirius turned to look at Remus again. He was rather horrified to see the smaller boy holding his bandaged arms out for a hug. It was bad enough with James and Peter watching. He really didn't want Angela and Neil to see.

"Pack!" Remus said. "Pack come. Cho'lt! Wolf…James make." He dug round under his covers and pulled out the rather bedraggled looking toy wolf. He waved it to James, then whimpered and clutched at his well-bandaged side as a wound was aggravated. "Sir'us…" he whimpered, crawling painfully out from the covers and curling against Sirius who flushed, but put his arms around Remus and drew him close, careful not to hurt him. Remus seemed to be a solid ball of bandages this morning.

"This is amazing," Neil shook his head as James and Peter joined them on the bed. Remus reached out to grab a fistful of James's shirt with one hand and nudged Peter with a foot. "I've read about werewolves forming packs, but it's not really that common."

"Choc'lt!" Remus said to Peter imperiously, seeming unaware that he was sitting on a whole lapful that Sirius hadn't had time to move before he'd gained an armful of werewolf.

Peter unwrapped a chocolate frog and passed it over to Remus, who grabbed it and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Are you sure that's good for him?" Angela asked uncertainly. "It was a really rough moon, and Madame Pomfrey said he should eat well and get rest."

"He does eat well, believe me," James said. "The amount of chocolate he consumes is scary. It's never affected him before." He grinned suddenly and reached out to unwrap Hamish's basket. "Hey, Moony. Look what we have here."

"Choc'lt?" Remus asked.

"No, Hedgehog."

"'Edge'og?"

James lifted Hamish out of the basket with a flourish. Hamish's small, pointed face turned towards Remus and he struggled in James's hands. James put him on the bed and Hamish began to shuffle towards the werewolf.

"Okay, I  _very_ much doubt Madame Pomfrey allows hedgehogs in her clean hospital wing." Angela looked towards her husband for support, her scarves fluttering around her nervously.

"Probably not," Neil agreed. "But look at Remus's face."

Remus's whole face had lit up at the sight of the hedgehog. It was an open, beaming smile that was never seen on his face on a normal day. It was free from the shadows that always seemed to hover in his eyes. He reached out a sticky hand towards Hamish.

"Gently, Moony," Sirius said, reaching out to guide Remus's hand to softly stroke the hedgehog. Remus laughed as Hamish butted his hand.

"Watch this," James added. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered a quick spell. Hamish's spikes turned brilliant red and gold.

" _'Edge'og!_ " Remus cheered, clapping his hands. Sirius was sure he could feel him buzzing with delight, even through all the bandages. Affection flooded him and he ran one hand up and down Remus's back, causing the boy to lean into him and sigh, his eyes beginning to droop.

"He'll go to sleep soon," Peter told the Anders. "Then we have to go to class."

"You boys are good friends," Angela said. "There are very few thirteen-year-olds who would support their friend through everything you have."

"We're his pack," James said, lifting Hamish back into his basket without bothering to change his colour back.

Sirius felt Remus's head droop against his chest as he dozed off.

" _Tempus,_ " James murmured, waving his wand. "We have to go, lads. We've got Herbology."

Peter reached over to pull back the covers of the bed and James helped Sirius shift Remus onto the bed. Thankfully, the werewolf hadn't eaten enough chocolate to merit the full clean-up operation that usually followed, although Sirius's lap – now covered in melted chocolate – was another story. He made a face and Angela laughed, giving a wave of her wand to clean up the mess.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"So will we see you again?" Peter asked the Anders.

"Probably not," Neil said, reaching over to brush away a strand of hair from Remus's sleeping face. "We both have work. We just came to check he was all right." He smiled. "It turns out we didn't need to worry about him."

The Marauders shifted in embarrassment, suddenly aware that any grown-up, masculine status they had managed to accumulate was rapidly depleting.

"We're his pack," James said again, as if that was their get-out-of-non-manly-jail-free card.

"Yeah," Sirius and Peter echoed.

Neil grinned, his boyish face showing that he knew exactly what was going through their minds. "You don't have to be ashamed of caring."

"We're not!" Sirius said.

"And we've got Herbology," Peter added. "If we don't hurry, we won't have time to get Hamish back to the dorm."

They hurried out of the hospital wing and to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Well, that was weird," Peter said breathlessly and he climbed through the portrait hole.

"That was embarrassing!" Sirius said. "I can't believe he climbed into my lap like that. In front of the Anders as well."

James and Peter laughed as they went into their dorm and grabbed their bags.

"It's your own fault," James said. "You encourage him."

"I do not. You know he always starts it."

"Yeah, but you sit there and cuddle him and stuff."

Sirius blushed furiously. "I do  _not_ 'cuddle' him. I  _hug_ him. Manly hugs. And what – you think I should just shove him off?"

"Nope," Peter said, grinning. "We never said anything of the sort. You're the one complaining."

Sirius sighed. "He was bad today, lads. I could feel bandages all over him."

They fell silent for a while as they made their way back out of Gryffindor Tower and towards Greenhouse three for Herbology.

"I wish we could do something for him," James said eventually.

"We can't," Sirius said not bothering to keep the bitterness from his voice. "If we were there, the smell of humans would make it even worse."

"Maybe we could put Hamish in there with him?" Peter suggested. "He's not scared of Moony and that book said animals might calm him."

"Peter!" Sirius said. "You can't do that to a poor innocent hedgehog. He may not be scared of Remus in human form, but I bet anyone would be scared if they saw a great big, slavering wolf coming towards them. Besides – you saw the furniture in that room. He might accidentally slash him."

"If only Hamish was bigger," James said. "And we could explain to him that we were trying to help Remus. What we need is a big animal with a human brain." He brightened. "Hey, do you reckon centaurs would work? I hear there are some in the Forbidden Forest and maybe we could bribe them."

"With what?" Peter asked. "Dung bombs? Besides, they're half human as well."

"Animals with human brains…" Sirius murmured. Suddenly he stopped as an idea hit him. He felt his heart leap up in his chest and he sucked a deep breath into his lungs. " _McGonagall!_ " he gasped.

"What?" James asked. "Sirius, are you insane?"

"McGonagall changes into a cat!" Sirius said. He started leaping around his friends excitedly. He grabbed James's shoulders and shook him. "Don't you see?"

A couple of fourth year Ravenclaws eyed him oddly as they passed the Marauders in the corridor.

"You want to ask McGonagall to go stay with him in her cat form?" Peter asked dubiously.

"No, you git," James said, his eyes also lighting up. " _We_ would!"

"Huh?" Peter looked completely lost.

"We'll become animagi," Sirius said impatiently to their chubby friend. "Honestly, keep up, Pete."

Light dawned on Peter's face. "But isn't that really hard?"

James sighed. "Yeah. Remember she said it takes years and some really complicated spells and potions."

"But we'll still try, won't we?" Sirius said jigging up and down with delight.

"Of course," James said. "If anyone can do it the Marauders can."

They started walking again, though it would probably be more accurate to describe their gait as bouncing.

"We're going to be the best pack  _ever_ ," Sirius said.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

They returned after their last lesson of day to find Remus wrapped up in a blanket on a sofa in front of the common room fire. Lily Evans was sitting beside him, talking to him in a hushed voice, one arm around his shoulder.

Sirius frowned. "What's Evans doing?"

"Hey, Evans!" James said, sauntering over to the fire and dropping into the armchair opposite the sofa. "Stop chatting up the invalid."

Lily glared at him. "You don't own him, Potter. And I wasn't chatting him up. I was just checking if he was alright."

Sirius sat on the arm of the sofa beside Remus and peered at him. "You don't look very well, mate. Why did Pomfrey let you out?"

Remus made a face. "I hate the hospital wing. You know that. I escaped as soon as I …recovered."

 _Recovered his mind_ , Sirius thought. He could see the embarrassment and self-loathing lurking in the depths of Remus's haunted eyes.

"Did you find Hamish?" Peter asked, bobbing down to sit on the floor in front of the fire.

"Yeah," Remus shifted a little so they could see the hedgehog sleeping peacefully on the blanket in his lap. Hamish's spines were still red and gold. "What on earth did you do to him? I leave him with you for one night and he comes back looking like a Christmas tree bauble."

James grinned. "If you lose him now, everyone will know to return him to the Gryffindor Tower."

"But what if a Slytherin finds him?"

"Good point." James drew out his wand and pointed it at the hedgehog, who woke up and blinked sleepy black eyes at James. "Silver and green? They wouldn't hurt one of their own."

"No!" Remus put his arms protectively over his pet. "I'm not letting you change him into Slytherin colours."

"He has a point, James," Sirius said. "He would clash horribly with the décor of our room."

"What décor?" Peter asked. "Do you mean the unmade beds and that giant poster Sirius stuck up of James getting knocked off his broom in slow motion?"

Remus, Peter and Sirius sniggered as James blushed furiously and shot a glance at Lily. "Shut up!"

"Are you lot always like this?" Lily asked, looking a mixture of exasperated and amused.

"Always like what?" Remus asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Always so… boyish!"

"Pretty much," Sirius said, leering at her. "It probably has something to do with us being  _boys_. Just the way you like it, hey, Evans?"

Lily shuddered. "You're so gross, Black." She stood up and tossed her dark red hair over her shoulder. "Couldn't you have found better friends, Remus?"

"I like my friends," Remus said mildly.

"Hmm. I'm going to find Alice and Rebecca. I hope you feel better soon."

She stalked away, shooting a last disgusted glance at Sirius who grinned back at her and winked.

"Sirius!" Remus said plaintively. "Did you  _have_ to do that?"

"What?" Sirius said. "I'm practicing my flirting. You told me all the girls were after me. I need to get my skills up to scratch."

"You're thirteen," Remus said. "It's just weird. And that wasn't flirting. It was practically molesting."

"I'll be fourteen in a couple of months," Sirius said. "And she deserved it for bugging you."

"She wasn't bugging me. She was being nice to me."

"He has a point, mate," James said.

"You're only backing him up 'cause you fancy her," Sirius said dismissively.

"I do not fancy her!"

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Lads!" Remus interrupted. "Please just shut up? " He yawned. "I think I'm going to bed." He stood up, every movement creaky and pained.

"Need help, Moony?" James asked.

"Nah, I'm good." He shuffled towards the stairs still holding Hamish and wrapped in his blanket. His hair was sticking up wildly around his head looking almost as bad as James's.

"Should we tell him, do you think?" Sirius asked, watching him.

"About the animagus thing?" James asked.

"Yeah."

James looked reflectively towards the stairs. "Not yet," he decided. "We should wait to see if it's possible first. We don't want to get his hopes up."

"I think I'm too stupid to do it," Peter said sadly. "You know I'm rubbish at spells and things. And McGonagall said it was really hard."

"We'll help you, mate, don't worry," James said, reaching over to ruffle Peter's hair.

"I just hope we can do it," said Sirius. "And I hope it will help him."

"We will. It will," James said. Sirius wished he could share in his friend's optimism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mischief Managers have made incredible videos for this chapter as well, which can be found at the links below!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBD2ZQf4DEA&index=2&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6_hvef18RU&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE&index=3


	30. Seeing Thestrals

" _I mean, a dog'll bite if yeh bait it, won' it - but Thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing - people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they?_ "

(Professor Rubeus Hagrid –  _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)_

**REMUS:**

"So tell me, mate," Sirius said cheerfully the next morning as the four Marauders made their way down to breakfast, "is it wolfie senses or bookworm senses?"

Remus looked up from his book and frowned at his friend. "What?"

"You've got all the way down from our dorm to the Great Hall without looking up and without bumping into a single thing."

"Uh…" Remus's brain felt fuzzy. He was exhausted, his wounds still hurt, and he really wasn't feeling up to dealing with inane questions.

"How can you be  _reading_  already?" Peter asked. "You've not even had breakfast yet. It's unnatural, I tell you.  _Unnatural._ "

"I don't want to get behind." Remus tucked his book open against the sugar bowl and focused on manoeuvring a piece of toast out of the toast rack without touching the silver.

"Oh, who cares?" Sirius said carelessly. "It's only school. It wouldn't kill you to have fun once in a while."

Remus paused, pressing his lips together for a few seconds to curb his instinctive response. Then he closed his book and peered over it at Sirius's sulky expression. "I  _have_ to do well," he explained, picking his words carefully. "I'm the only werewolf ever offered this chance and I'm not going to make Dumbledore regret his trust in me."

"Moony." James's expression took on the awkward cast it always did when he was forced to dip his toe into the unmanly depths of actual emotion. "You have just as much right to be here as any of us. Dumbledore just gave you the chance to have something that should have been yours anyway."

Remus ducked his head and shrugged. The others didn't get it. They couldn't. It was easy for them, being human. For Remus, humanity was something he had to fight for.

The conversation was thankfully interrupted by the post owls and he felt his heart lift a bit at the sight of Brutus. He was aware of Sirius watching in amusement as he exchanged his sausages for the letter as the big bird leant forward to run his beak through Remus's hair. "Why is it that even though most animals hate you, the ones that love you just can't stay away?"

"It's my magnetic personality."

"'Course it is," James snorted.

Remus reached down into his pocket and pulled out Hamish, putting him on the table beside Brutus and offering him a piece of sausage as well. The hedgehog eyed it for a moment, then turned his head and stole a piece of bacon off Sirius's plate instead.

"Oi!" Sirius tried to wrestle it back, then gave in when Hamish stared at him, wide-eyed and pleading. "You've been giving him lessons!" Sirius accused, pointing at Remus with his fork. "I'd know that look anywhere."

His noisy accusation drew the attention of the surrounding Gryffindors.

"Yuck," Lily said, from where she, Alice and Rebecca were sitting beside Peter. "Remus Lupin, get your hedgehog off the table. It's unhygienic."

"But he's hungry."

"How'd he get red and gold?" Frank asked.

"Talk to James," Remus said darkly. "You're lucky he's not silver and green."

Hamish ignored the attention, taking the opportunity to steal another piece of bacon off Sirius's plate.

"Is bacon good for hedgehogs?" Frank asked doubtfully.

"I don't know." Remus studied Hamish. "They eat slugs and snails and things naturally, don't they? I guess it's all meat."

"I heard you have to feed them dog food," Lily volunteered, apparently giving up on trying to maintain hygiene standards at the Gryffindor table in favour of a lecture on animal welfare.

"I don't have any dog food."

"Hagrid might," Sirius said. "We have Care of Magical Creatures next. We can drop by his hut afterwards."

"Speaking of which," James said, casting a  _tempus_  charm, "we have to go. We have to get all the way down to the edge of the Forest, remember."

The third years at the Gryffindor table all agreeably shuffled to their feet and headed outside, most still chewing on pieces of toast with the mechanical doggedness of those still daydreaming of bed.

"What's that?" Sirius asked as they approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Backing onto the first fringe of trees was a large enclosure surrounded by a high fence. Inside, the third year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, with whom they shared the class, could see a massive stretch of bog-land. It smelled of damp and decomposition, and was dotted with little islands of mud on which grew odd-looking magical plants. As they crept closer, Remus could see that the temporary, magical bog was filled with bits of floating, dead wood.

"If everyone will approach the fence we can start the lesson," said Professor Kettleburn, coming up behind them and making a few of the girls and Peter squeak in surprise. Sirius sniggered and elbowed the chubby boy, who blushed furiously.

"Who can tell me what this habitat is?" Professor Kettleburn asked as they cautiously approached the fence and peered inside.

"Bog-land," volunteered a Hufflepuff girl named Rosemary, nose wrinkling with the smell as she avoided touching the fence.

"Correct. Five points to Hufflepuff. Now, watch this."

Proffessor Kettleburn reached his scarred hand into a large, shabby bag at his side and pulled out a dead rabbit. More than one person made horrified noises and Stephen Douglas actually retched and backed away.

Professor Kettleburn ignored him and took a step back to launch the dead rabbit over the fence and into the enclosure. This time, the whole class let out shrieks of surprise as the pieces of dead wood that had been floating round in the boggy water came alive and launched themselves at the dead rabbit, tearing it to pieces ravenously.

"Dugbogs!" Remus said, feeling a buzz of wonder as he recognised the creatures from the pictures in their textbooks. "Those are dugbogs!"

"Correct, Mr. Lupin." Professor Kettleburn waved an approving hand with three missing fingers at Remus. "Ten point to Gryffindor! Yes, these are dugbogs – commonly found in Europe and North and South America. Their favourite food is Mandrakes, but they will happily eat small mammals such as rabbits. It is not wise to wander through a bog containing dugbogs. The damage they can do to your feet and ankles is severe."

"Awesome!" James said, peering through the fence and trying to catch sight of the dugbogs again. Unfortunately, they had finished their snack and had gone back to masquerading as pieces of dead wood.

"In today's lesson, you will continue throwing food to the dugbogs," Professor Kettleburn continued. "While they are eating, you will attempt to study their appearance and draw diagrams based on your observations. The bags of dead rabbits are over there." He pointed to a pile of bloody-looking sacks near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, oblivious to the groans of disgust.

Remus followed the other Marauders to the sacks, wrinkling his nose as the smell of blood triggered his powerful senses. His human side felt a bit revolted by the rich, metallic scent, while his wolf side woke and relished in it. His feet stumbled awkwardly on the uneven ground as his head swam.

"Alright there, Moony?" Sirius asked.

"Smells like blood." Remus tried to hold his breath and fight the wolf back.

"Don't worry, mate," said Sirius, squeezing his shoulder. "We'll get the sacks. You wait here."

Remus stopped with relief and watched as the other students reluctantly began picking through the sacks of dead animals.

"This is so unhygienic!" he heard Lily complain loudly.

Movement at the edge of the forest caught his eye. Remus turned his head and froze when he saw three massive horse-like creatures with giant bat wings eyeing the pile of bloody sacks longingly. He recognised them immediately as the creatures he saw pulling the school carriages. Remus felt his breath quicken and glanced quickly to his classmates. None of them seemed to be aware of the creatures watching them.

"Moony?" Remus jumped violently when James put a hand on his shoulder. He grabbed his friend's arm and pointed to the animals.

"What?" Sirius asked, peering to where Remus was pointing.

"There! Giant, b-bat-horse things!" Remus glanced at his friends urgently. "Tell everyone to get out the way!"

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked. "There's nothing there."

" _There is! There is!_ " Remus was becoming more and more horrified as the creatures began to venture closer to the oblivious pupils.

"Maybe we should get you to the Hospital Wing." Sirius dropped his sack and put a protective arm around Remus's shoulders.

"Watch out! _Get out the way!_ " Remus yelled, shaking off his friends who made a grab for him. He sprinted towards the sacks and the rest of the students as one of the horse-like things made a grab at a bloody rabbit's foot.

" _Remus!_ " Sirius, James and Peter ran after him, grabbing hold of him as the rest of the class turned to watch the scene in bewilderment. Remus struggled, but didn't dare use his werewolf strength in front of all the spectators.

"Watch out!" he called to the other students weakly, heart hammering. "They'll hurt you!"

"There's nothing  _there_ , Moony. You're seeing things."

"What's going on here?" Professor Kettleburn demanded, coming up and glaring at the Marauders.

"Remus has gone insane," Peter told him tremulously, still clutching Remus's struggling arm.

"I'm not!" Remus cried. "Can't you  _see_ them?"

Professor Kettleburn turned towards where Remus was staring and froze as well. Then he said very calmly, "Will all of you please move away from the sacks and come here."

"What?" James demanded. "What's going on?"

The rest of the class hurried to obey, staring towards the pile of sacks on confusion.

"What do you see, Remus?" Professor Kettleburn asked, his usually rough voice gentle.

"Horse things," Remus mumbled. "Black with bat w-wings and skeleton r-ribs. They have horrible eyes – all white and cloudy. Like dead th-things."

"Good boy," Professor Kettleburn said. "That was a good description for those who can't see them."

"You mean they're really there?" Sirius asked, squinting towards the forest in confusion. "Why can't we all see them?"

"Those are thestrals," Professor Kettleburn said. "There is a herd of them in the Forbidden Forest that Hagrid trained to pull the school carriages at the beginning of every year."

James's and Sirius's mouths dropped open and they turned to stare at Remus.

"You really  _weren't_ loopy," Sirius said. "You  _were_ seeing something that time in first year."

"Indeed," Professor Kettleburn said. "Thestrals can only be observed by those who have seen death."

Remus felt himself grow cold. He knew the blood was draining from his face and he felt sweaty and shaky at the same time. The thestrals were now crowding towards the sacks of dead rabbits, their sightless white eyes fixed on the bloody pile.

"Death?" James asked weakly.

"Thestrals can only be seen by those who have seen someone die in front of their eyes."

The whole class turned to look at Remus. He shrank back against Sirius who was still standing close beside him.

"You've seen someone die?" Peter looked horrified. "Who?"

Remus flinched and Sirius, James and Professor Kettleburn all glared at Peter. "If you don't mind, Mr. Pettigrew, I would rather you didn't upset a fellow student with questions like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Moony!" Peter said, his eyes widening. "I didn't think…"

"You  _never_  think!" Sirius snapped.

"Hey, look!" Douglas and Frank were staring towards the pile of sacks and Remus saw that one of the thestrals had managed to tear one open, allowing the creatures to feast on the rabbits with relish. He wondered what it looked like to the others who could only see the pieces of bloody meat disappearing into thin air.

 _Those who have seen death_. The words kept running round in his head again and again. He was vaguely aware of the professor telling everyone how thestrals were attracted to the smell of blood, but his mind was more focused on the memories of a night many years ago when he crouched over his mother, staring at the torn, glistening tendons and bones of her chest and neck as the blood pooled around her.

_"…D-don't let them turn you into a m-monster like h-h-h-him. The w-wolf hasn't changed you. S-say it Remus!"_

Remus felt his breath jerk into his chest and closed his eyes.

_Only those who have seen death… the wolf hasn't changed you…_

"Moony?" He opened his eyes to find both James and Sirius watching him. He forced a smile.

"I'm sorry we didn't believe you before," James said quietly.

Remus sighed and looked away. "You weren't to know."

"We're still sorry," Sirius said. "And I'm sorry about… whoever it was you saw… you know… die." He looked angry at himself for his own clumsiness.

"It's fine. Don't worry." Remus forced another smile. "It was a long time ago."

His three friends watched him closely, questions, concern and affection on their eyes. He knew what they all wanted to ask, but didn't dare.

"My mother," Remus whispered, for their ears only. "She tried to rescue me from the wolf. She saved my life."

The old hurt was so deep he didn't even stutter as he spoke. It was as if it was no longer his own voice, but that of the little boy he had once been.

Before the wolf had changed him.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur. Remus knew the others were worried about him, but he couldn't bring himself to reassure them. Every time his mind wandered, it turned towards That Night. Seeing the thestrals, and hearing why he was the only one who could see them had brought the memories he had done his best to repress to the forefront of his mind, and they refused to go away.

He thought of how things had been eight years ago, before the attack. He'd had everything - innocence, his beautiful mother and her music and potions, the dance of the moonshadows. Even his father had been different - lighter, happier, less violent. He'd never hurt Remus before That Night, although Remus wasn't sure it was because he hadn't wanted to, or because he knew Serena would never have allowed it.

Remus knew it was his fault it had all changed. If he had not gone out that night, his mother would still be alive, his father would not be in Azkaban and Remus would not be a werewolf. So many consequences came from one small mistake he hadn't even been aware of making at the time. So many terrible, bloody consequences and it was all his fault.

When classes were finished, Remus slipped away from his friends, missing dinner, and went to the library where he crept under one of the tables with a book on potions ingredients. He sat cross-legged on the floor beneath the table, turning the pages slowly as he slowly rebuilt the image of his mother in his mind.

He heard the other Marauders come in after a while to look for him. He didn't feel like speaking to them and watched silently from the shadows beneath the table as they gave up their search and headed back out again. He felt guilty for worrying them, but he couldn't face their sympathy or questions right now.

When it got dark outside and curfew approached, Remus crept from under the table and out of the library. Keeping to the shadows, he flitted silently through the corridors and out of the hidden door by the Hospital Wing. He headed out to the Quidditch pitch as he had almost a whole year ago, feeling the newly waning moon hovering overhead.

When he reached the pitch he knelt on the grass and tilted his head back to stare up at the almost-full moon that hovered overhead. If he concentrated hard, he imagined he could almost feel his mother beside him, just as he had all that time ago.

" _I'm being followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow…_ " he sang softly, feeling the night breeze ruffling his hair. " _Leaping and a hopping on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow…._ "

He looked down and held his hand so it hovered over the grass, casting a shadow beneath. With his other hand, he reached up to hold the pendant around his neck, tracing the blood-red garnet set in the centre of the tiny palm with his thumb.

" _And if I ever loose my eyes, if my colour all runs dry. Yes, if I ever loose my eyes, hey, I won't have to cry no more…_ "

He stopped as his voice cracked, the song continuing in his mind in the rich voice of a woman long dead.

"Mum?" he asked tremulously, his own voice sounding quite pathetic in the breezy night air. He suddenly couldn't feel her any more. He felt horribly alone out here on his own. "M-Mum?" Had she left him, now she knew the wolf had changed him? He remembered his wish last year, a wish on blood and moonshadows.

He dropped the pendant and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He raised his right hand and had just opened his mouth to whisper the cutting spell when a warm hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him. Remus let out a squeak of shock and jerked his arm away, swinging around to face the person behind him.

"Don't, Moony," Sirius said, his grey eyes wide with urgency as he knelt beside Remus. "Don't hurt yourself."

"How did you find me?" Remus whispered. Sirius had crept up to him downwind, which explained why he hadn't scented the other boy.

"I saw you in the library. Under the table. I waited outside to check you got back okay. I followed you out here. Like I did last time."

"Go away!" Remus said, feeling angry. "You had no right to intrude like that!"

"I wouldn't have. But you were going to cut yourself."

Remus looked down at his left hand which still gripped his wand. It was shaking. "I had to. It's how it works."

"No it isn't. That's not why we became your friends." Sirius reached out and prised Remus's wand from his unresisting fingers. "You don't have to make blood sacrifices to reach out to the people who care about you."

"B-but…" Remus made a grab for his wand and Sirius held it out of his reach.

"No, Remus!" It was one of the few times Sirius had used Remus's full Christian name for a long time. The taller boy's face was very grave.

Remus gave up and turned his back on Sirius, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his head in them. He heard Sirius shift uncertainly behind him, then a warm arm wrapped around his shoulder, drawing him close to Sirius's side. He felt a breath against his ear before Sirius whispered softly, "not everything comes down to blood and moonshadows."

"Yes it does," Remus replied, his voice muffled. "With me, it's all everything comes down to. It's what I am."

"No it's not," Sirius said firmly. "Maybe it's a big part, but it's not everything. What about Hamish? And Brutus? What about the Anders and school and books? What about magic and pranks and our dorm room? What about the Marauders? Isn't all that also who you are? What about me? I don't have anything to do with the moon except through you. My name is a star."

Remus didn't answer for a long time. Then he said, "did you prepare that speech?"

Sirius snorted. "I'm a Black. We're naturally what's-the-word? Where you're good with words?"

Remus gave a muffled chuckle. "Articulate."

"Yeah, that."

"Liar."

Sirius sighed. "Fine. I maybe prepared it a bit. But only while I was sitting here watching you. It wasn't  _properly_ prepared - not like homework prepared."

Remus looked up and smiled at Sirius, his eyes still watery. "It was a good speech."

Sirius grinned. "Of course it was."

Remus tilted his head back to look up at the moon again. "I was thinking about my mother."

"Yeah," Sirius said, tone solemn again.

"She was a potions mistress. She used to take me out at night to pick potions ingredients under the moon. She was Muggleborn and she used to sing all these old Muggle songs about the moon. It was magical. Like fairytale magical, not ordinary magical." Remus turned to look at Sirius and smiled. "Those were the best times of my life until the Marauders. Under the moon with her."

"What happened?" Sirius asked gently.

Remus looked away again. "One day I woke up with a nightmare and I wanted to go to my parents' room so they could comfort me. I heard them arguing inside. Something about someone called Greyback who had escaped. He was angry with my father or something. My mother was upset because he didn't want her to go out at night anymore. I didn't understand what was going on. I just wanted them to comfort me but I was afraid to go in, so I sneaked outside instead."

" _What?_ "

"You have to understand that outside under the moon was where I felt most safe. It was almost as good as having my mother there. I could feel that magic and it was helping me get over my nightmare. But of course I was only six at the time. I didn't link what they were arguing about to a danger to myself. Greyback – who is a werewolf – attacked me. My parents heard my screams and my mother ran out and blasted him off me. But werewolves are tough when they're transformed and he was insane anyway. He leaped up and attacked her as well. My father blasted him off her. I'm not totally sure what happened then." Remus bowed his head again, feeling himself begin to shake. "I r-remember crawling to my mother and seeing her neck and chest ripped out and b-b-bleeding. I could see bone and b-blood and muscle and stuff. And she was talking to me, even though she was dying. She made me p-p-promise not to become a m-monster like G-G-Greyback. She told me n-not to let the wolf ch-change me."

Remus felt Sirius shift closer and wrap both arms around him. "I'm sorry, Moony. I'm so sorry."

"I h-h-have changed," Remus hiccoughed, feeling tears begin to make their way down his cheeks. "I  _have_ let it ch-change m-me!"

He felt Sirius's hand rubbing his back and was briefly reminded of a fuzzy post-moon memory from the hospital wing. "That's not what she meant," Sirius murmured into his ear. "She didn't mean you should fight what you are. She meant that you mustn't let it turn you into a monster. And you haven't. You  _haven't_ Moony.  _I'm_ more of a monster than you are. You're good and kind and clever. I think she would be very proud of you."

Remus felt something crack inside him then. It was like a dam breaking open and flooding him. He couldn't have stopped it if his life had depended on it. He clung to Sirius and felt himself crumble. It couldn't even be called crying. It was more like violent spasms of hurt and grief that shook his whole body. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't do anything except live through the tidal wave of emotions. He felt himself choking and retching, and all the time Sirius held him and didn't say anything. He just hummed softly and rubbed Remus's back, waiting for him to recover.

And then it was over and Remus was left exhausted and hiccoughing and gasping for breath. Sirius still didn't talk and Remus was glad. The black-haired boy helped him to his feet and helped him back inside. He supported Remus up the many staircases to Gryffindor tower and through the portrait hole. Luckily the common room was empty and they made their way undisturbed to their dorm where James and Peter watched silently from their beds as Sirius pulled Remus over to his own and helped him beneath the covers, pulling off his shoes and outer robes and tucking him in. He gave Remus a last squeeze before gently disentangling Remus's fingers from his robes – Remus hadn't even noticed he had been clutching him so hard – and carefully closing the curtains.

Before he disappeared from view entirely, Remus managed to whisper, "Thank you, Sirius," and was rewarded with a small smile and a wink before Sirius retreated to his own bed.

Then Remus closed his eyes and remembered nothing more.


	31. Operation Battle Robot

_"Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes."_

_Oscar Wilde_

**SIRIUS:**

Third year, Sirius noticed, was the most uneventful year they had ever experienced at Hogwarts. Aside from numerous lectures from teachers about the importance of working hard in all their subjects so they could do well in the OWLS in fifth year, a few pranks on the Slytherins, and a lot of sneaky animagus research that resulted in barely anything, nothing much seemed to happen until Christmas; when the Marauders – who were determined to liven things up a bit – pulled 'Operation Battle Robot'.

The idea had come to them over breakfast one November morning while James and Sirius were complaining about the fact that the Quidditch team had no need of any new players this year, and so weren't holding tryouts.

"It's not fair," James said, buttering his toast so vigorously that he wore a hole in it. "It's not like the team is even any good. I mean come on – they won  _one_ game last year, and that was only because the Hufflepuff seeker had been knocked squiffy by a bludger from his own team."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed moodily. "And I really wanted to try out for beater. Think of all the fun I could have had whacking dangerous objects in the direction of Slytherin heads without getting detention for it."

"Cheer up, lads," Peter said. "Next year they have two chasers  _and_ a beater going. There's no way you won't get in."

"I can't cheer up," James mourned. "A whole year!"

"Why don't we plan a Christmas prank on the Slytherins?" Sirius suggested. "We could hire a giant and set it on their common room to rampage and cause havoc and mayhem, and possibly even a touch of chaos. You know how much I love chaos."

The others, who had seen the state of Sirius's school trunk, nodded sagely. James also appeared to brighten as he considered the idea. "Where would we get a giant, though?" he asked. "And how would we tell it to only attack Slytherins and not the rest of us? I've heard they're a bit thick. Kind of like Goyle would be if he was twenty feet taller, a gazillion times stinkier, and had been dropped on his head as a baby."

"You won't," Remus said. "I can't allow you to set a giant on the school - even in the interests of dragging you and Sirius out of a sulk. It might kill someone."

"We could make our own," Sirius said. "Transfigure something in the school to look giant-like and attack the Slytherins."

"Like a battle robot," Peter said. "You start out with lots of smaller robots and they all come together to make a giant robot that attacks the whole school. They do it in loads of Muggle science fiction films."

"Brilliant!" James said, then; "What's a robot? And science fiction?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "You lot really should take Muggle Studies next year. They're like metal people that run on electricity and can be controlled by ordinary humans. The Muggles have them in their movies about the future. Sometimes there are whole armies of robots that take over the world and things."

"That is so cool," Sirius said. "So they're like...suits of armour without people in?" His eyes widened. "Merlin, I'm a genius!"

James's face broke into an identical grin. "A giant battle robot made of suits of armour," he said dreamily. "Chasing Slytherins down the corridor and throwing them into a giant pool of green jelly."

"Why green jelly?" Remus asked.

"Why not?" James asked reasonably.

"I think it's brilliant," Sirius said. "We should set it on the whole school, not just the Slytherins. Can you imagine how the Hufflepuffs would squeal and panic and run into walls? Remus – you have to help us find the correct charms."

"No, wait a minute," Remus said, growing rather desperate as the situation slipped rapidly out of his control. "Suits of armour aren't  _designed_ to turn into giant battle robots. They would fall apart."

"That's why you use  _sticking_ charms," James said.

"I'm not doing it," Remus said firmly. "I'm really not."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"This is going to be brilliant," Sirius hissed as the four of them crept down the main corridor at four in the morning on the last day of term. "Best prank ever since your ice prank."

"I still have no idea how you lot talked me into this," Remus complained. "And we really are all getting too big to fit under this cloak." He poked a hand out and aimed his wand at a nearby suit of armour. " _Tempus Animatus!_ "

"Twelve down, sixty three more to go," Peter said cheerfully. "It's going to be brilliant."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It started out according to plan. At one 'o clock, on the dot, while the whole school was calmly eating lunch, there was a thunderous clanking sound from outside the hall that gradually grew louder and louder.

All heads turned towards the main doors, just as they burst open to reveal an army of seventy-five suits of armour – all marching in formation – enter and line up in full view of all the tables.

"What on earth is going on!" Professor McGonagall demanded from the staff table, her eyes automatically seeking out the Marauders who all contrived to look innocent. "If you boys – "

She broke off as, with a sound like an entire brass band being shaken up together in a giant metal drum, the army started to move. The suits of armour began coming together, climbing up each other's shoulders, standing on each other's heads, building themselves taller and taller, until the – now very deafened and shocked – hall was presented with a giant metal creature that only very vaguely resembled a human form.

"Remus, have I ever told you you're a genius?" Sirius breathed, eyeing it in wonder.

"You and James cast most of the spells," Remus said, with the air of one who is trying to convince himself he is not entirely to blame.

"Yeah, but you put them together."

The 'battle robot' gave an unsteady lurch and began staggering towards the Ravenclaw table, causing the students who were sitting there to begin screaming and scrambling away from their seats. It tried to follow them and nearly overbalanced.

"Not very steady on its feet," James commented, having to raise his voice over the noise of the clanking and screams.

"That's because it has too many," Remus said. "I told you that, but would you listen to me?"

"It's still awesome," Peter put in.

The metal creature had now given up on the Ravenclaws who had taken to cowering behind the staff table and turned to the Slytherins instead. That's when things started to go wrong. The Slytherins – while still screaming and scrambling out the way – also began shooting spells at the 'robot'. They ranged from tickling charms and bat-bogey hexes, to a few much darker spells that would have got their caster's into heaps of trouble if anyone had been able to make out who was responsible in all the chaos.

Although most of the spells had no effect on their own, the amount of magic that was being aimed at the robot began to wear away at the spells that were holding it active and together.

"Oh no!" Sirius moaned, as the robot staggered to a brief halt and began swaying. It staggered backwards – away from the Slytherin table and towards the main doors, looking even drunker that it had before. It teetered towards the Hufflepuff table, threatening to crush all the students still sitting there, frozen with shock. Dumbledore, at the staff table, rose to his feet as raised his wand.

Sirius thought his heart would actually pop with fear. He didn't know what the professors had planned, but couldn't bring himself to wait and find out. He took one look at the white faces of the Hufflepuffs that were tilted upwards towards the metal creature and screamed, " _Blasting curses, lads! Towards the door!_ "

He could only be glad that the other Marauders knew him so well, because they all immediately pulled out their wands and began throwing blasting curses at the robot, causing it to stagger back from the Hufflepuff table again. As others began to catch onto their plan, more blasting curses from all over the hall rained down on the battle robot. It froze, only inches away from the main doorway, then teetered back and fell – seemingly in slow motion – to land with a gigantic, metallic  _splat!_ in the huge pool of green jelly that the Marauder's had charmed to form just outside the door.

Everyone within a ten-meter radius of the doorway was coated in lime-flavoured jelly and for a long moment, there was only a deathly, whistling hush. Then, slowly, all heads turned towards the Marauders who still stood poised at their table with their wands out.

"Who, us?" Sirius said, trying to look innocent and failing miserably.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

'Operation Battle Robot,' landed all four Marauders in detention every night for the rest of the year. James's parents were so angry when they heard about it, that they wouldn't even allow him to return home for Christmas. The others also chose to remain at school to keep him company.

"The worse thing about it," Sirius said, one day in June after six months of after- school detention, "is that we haven't even had time to research animagi properly. We had little enough time as it is - what with having to keep it a secret from Moony and everything. Now we have practically nothing."

The three of them were sitting in the library very late one full moon night, with piles of books from the transfiguration section surrounding them.

"We'll have to see if we can find anything over the summer," James said, rubbing his eyes and squinting down at his book. "My eyes feel like they're on fire."

"I can't sneak into the Black library," Sirius said in alarm. "My mother would kill me. And if she didn't, some of those cursed books in there would."

"And we don't really have that many magical books about," Peter added. "We have loads of Muggle family who come and visit us all the time so we can't have magic stuff around that much."

James groaned. "I guess it's down to me then," he said. "I'll see what I can do, but my parents are going to be seriously suspicious if I spend too much time in the library. They'll think I've been possessed."

"Well, you'll just have to find a way," Sirius said, glancing out the window to look at the full moon. "I don't think Remus can take many more transformations on his own without help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In her fanfic Padfoot Prohibited, the author, Liveley, wrote the single line: "The whole of Hogwarts' suits of armor cannot be assembled into a giant battle robot." It was such an inspired idea for a Marauder prank, that I thought it deserved more that one line. As a result, I used the idea for this chapter, but all credit for it must go to Liveley and her brilliant fanfic.


	32. Summer Holidays Third Year

_I guess when it comes down to it_   
_Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up_   
_These are the best days of our lives_   
_The only thing that matters is just following your heart_   
_And eventually you'll finally get it right.- (The Ataris)_

SUMMER HOLIDAYS – End of Third Year

Hey James,

I hope you are having more fun than I am this holiday. I've not been locked in the cellar yet, but that's only because we've had a load of dastardly Slytherin suck-ups visiting who want to gawk at the heir to the Black Fortune. I actually heard my father discussing  _marriage_ arrangements with the head of the Bulstrode family. Have you seen what they all look like? I swear there's an English bulldog in their family tree somewhere. I was actually expecting Angharrad Bulstrode to bark at any moment all through dinner. And she's three years older than me – it's just gross! I think I would rather be disowned.

And do you know what the worse thing is? Regulus is turning into one of them! He hardly speaks to me any more and has a go at me any time I try to make him do something fun. I know I didn't get much chance to talk to him over the school year, but I didn't realise he had become  _that_ involved in Slytherin politics. He was totally sucking up to Malfoy – yes Malfoy – the whole time he was here. Did you hear that my family is in negotiations to get him hitched to my cousin, Narcissa? (Malfoy, not Regulus – we haven't got  _that_ badly incestuous yet. Though I reckon it's only a matter of time.) I'm not really sure who I feel more sorry for.

Please write and tell me how you're doing. Have you heard from Moony since his last you-know-what?

Sirius

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear Sirius,

I haven't heard from Moony, but my Dad talked to Anders at work and he said he's doing fine. Dad doesn't know about Moony's furry little problem, but apparently Anders said he had a rough bout of 'illness' and has been taking it easy for a while. Probably holed up doing holiday homework.

I have been looking through our library books for any stuff for 'Operation Help Moony'. Mum got really suspicious, though (on account of the fact I haven't voluntarily opened a book my Dad snuck me a copy of 'Cursing Slytherins and Other Second Rate Citizens' in first year) and now she checks all the books I look at to make sure they're suitable. That means I can't really access any of the advanced Transfiguration books. It's a really bugger because there are loads here and I can't get to them without some serious sneaking. Nothing to report so far.

I heard from Pete that he's going to be in Diagon Alley near the end of August if we want to meet up then. Can you make it? My parents say to tell you that you're welcome to come and stay with us any time you want. They really took to you last summer. Think of something and come. I hate to think of you alone there among all the snakes.

Wishing you chocolate and dungbombs,

James

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear Sirius, James and Peter (this copying spell I found is brilliant, isn't it? Gone are the days when we have to rewrite all the letters by hand. And before you ask – no, you may not use it for homework assignments).

I'm sorry I haven't written for a while. I've not been very well, but I'm getting much better. Moony is now used to the change of scenery. You know what he's like about different places.

Neil and Angela were  _not_ impressed by 'Operation Battle Robot' and grounded me for two weeks when I got back, but since I have been 'ill', they have loosened up a lot. Although Angela  _has_  found a new way of punishing me for misdemeanours (I had honestly forgotten about those dung-bombs James put in my coat pocket. How was I supposed to know Neil would sit on them?). She makes me do the laundry. Considering her wardrobe this is no mean feat. One of her skirts chased me into the linen closet and kept me in there for half an hour after I tried to put a stain-removing potion on it, and a pair of her tights tried to strangle me when I was hanging them on the washing line.

Sirius, are you going to James's this summer? I hope you can. I worry about you being at home all summer. I couldn't believe how mean your mother was to you at the station.

Are you all still up for meeting at Diagon Alley at the end of August?

Got to go now. Neil is yelling because Hamish has been chewing on today's  _Daily Prophet_. He has started escaping  _all_ the time. I have no idea how he gets out, but he's forever getting me into trouble. I have changed his spines red and gold again because it makes him easier to spot.

Remus

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

James!

I can come to your house! My family have been invited to Malfoy Manor for a few weeks near the end of summer and they told me they didn't want me to come and that I had to 'make plans to go somewhere because I couldn't be trusted in the Noble House of Black alone'.

Can I still come? Please say yes! One more stint in that cellar and I might inherit the Black insanity. Gotta go. I promised I would write to Remus today vowing not to do anything stupid that will get me into trouble with my Mum. Fat chance.

See you soon! Yay!

Sirius

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Moooooooony!

You'll be happy to know I've only been punished a few times this summer as I've been on my best behaviour. Regulus put candles down in the cellar for me even though he hardly talks to me any more. You must tell me how to fix it with him when we get back to school. You're good at stuff like that. I just keep getting angry at him which makes it worse.

Anyway, I'm off to James's in a week and I can't wait! And we'll be meeting up soon as well. I plan on checking to make sure those Anders are still treating you all right. Otherwise I will have to ride in on my charger to rescue you. After I've bought a charger, of course.

I miss you, Moony,

Sirius

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Alright, lads!

It's been another depressingly magic-less summer for me filled with Muggle relatives. I can't wait to see you all at Diagon Alley again. My Dad saw James's Dad at the Ministry the other day and he said he could tell by the harried and over-wrought look on his face that Sirius had joined the Potter family for the summer. Good on you, mate!

Nothing much to report here, except I watched a movie with an army of robots in it with my cousin the other day and I couldn't stop laughing and thinking of green jelly. My cousin got mad that I was disturbing the film and poured half a box of popcorn over my head, so I quietly cast that constipation charm on him that Sirius taught me. He's been looking uncomfortable for days. It's brilliant. I might have to take it off soon before my parents get suspicious.

Look forward to seeing you all!

Pete

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Hey Pete!

We're so proud of you! What a lovely use of the constipation charm! You deserve this month's Marauder's badge of honour. We've been trying to sneak out the more advanced books from the Potter library to research you-know-what, but we haven't been successful so far. Mrs. Potter has eyes on the back of her head, I swear.

We can't wait to see you tomorrow. Bring your pocket money. The school has gone too long without some Marauder mayhem. We'll have to think of a big prank to pull at Halloween. Christmas is just too far away. Also we'll be able to try out for Quidditch this year! Yay!

From,

Sirius and James

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear Sirius and James,

Thank you both for that lovely LONG letter detailing every precise Quidditch move used by the Harpies and the Chudley Cannons in this summer's match. I don't know how I was surviving without that knowledge.

Anyway, I'm glad you lads are having a good time. It was so nice to see you last Saturday. I was beginning to feel lonely without my pack. How many of your new pranking items have you wasted on James's poor parents already? Angela says to tell Mrs. Potter that she has the patience of the saint for putting up with the two of you, but that's only because I accidentally dyed all her white scarves luminous pink and they was so horrified, they crawled away and hid behind the broom shed for two hours. Neil said "If you think we've got a bad one, you should try teaching James and Sirius for a year."

By the way, remember that poster you sent me last year of James falling off his broom? That charm Sirius put on to make it go slowly has gone dodgy and now he falls fast for two metres, then slow, then fast, then slow. It's really funny to watch. You should try it on your copy and the one in the dorm.

Two more days, lads!

Remus

PS: If you grow any taller in those two days, I'm getting a new pack!

**REMUS:**

Remus couldn't believe how much James and Sirius had grown over a single summer. Both dark-haired boys had apparently hit their growth-spurts at the same time. James seemed to have acquired a dozen elbows, knees and lanky limbs, without any extra fat to go with them. He was now extraordinary long and thin, and his face had lost its childish roundness, now holding hints of the square-jawed, messy-haired man he would become.

Sirius, on the other hand – along with his elegance, smooth dark hair and grey eyes – had inherited the Black skill of gliding through his adolescence with no sign of the gangly stretched-looking stage that usually went with it. He now also towered over Remus – in spite of the fact that Remus had grown a few inches himself.

"This is so unfair!" Remus complained to Peter – who was also half a head taller than him by now, although still rather podgy - as they made their way to an empty compartment on the train. "I feel like a midget."

He absently picked up the trunk Sirius was struggling with, lifting it into the compartment and shoving it under one of the seats. He caught Sirius grinning at him and scowled. "What?"

"You're very strong for a midget. Do you know that it took James and me all our strength and ingenuity to get that trunk onto the station?"

Remus glanced down at the trunk. "It wasn't that heavy."

"It was," James put in. "And you have grown. You're taller than you were. Though you  _are_  still a bit puny compared to the rest of us."

"Puny! At least I haven't developed four new elbows. We could fold you up and tuck you into the overhead compartment."

"He has a point, mate," Sirius said with mock sympathy, laying a consoling hand on James's arm.

"Unless you want to be belching slugs for the rest of the journey, I would stop teasing me," James said grumpily. "I was trying to be nice." He brightened up a bit. "Hey, speaking of nice, did anyone else see Evans today? I don't know what she did to her hair, but wow!" he whistled in appreciation.

"You're whipped, mate," Sirius said, throwing himself down onto a seat and shaking his black hair out of his eyes in a gesture that struck Remus as a little canine. Sirius's grey eyes met his and he winked. "Don't you reckon, Moony?"

Remus couldn't help smiling. "He is a bit."

"Well, she is the most good-looking girl in the school," James said, defensively. "It's not like I fancy her or anything, but you can't deny she's pretty."

"Meh." Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "So you've settled on going for chaser? I heard the tryouts are this week. They want to get as many practices in before the first game in November."

"Definitely," James said, his face lighting up. "I wish you'd go for Chaser as well. We'll be unbeatable!"

"Nope," Sirius said. "Beater all the way."

Remus sighed as the talk turned to Quidditch and tuned out, staring out of the window and wondering what the new year would be like.


	33. We Will See Who Dies Laughing

_We all grow up with the weight of history on us._

_Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as_

_they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge_

_hidden in every cell of our bodies._

_(Shirley Abbott)_

**SIRIUS:**

"I still don **'** t see why you won't try out for Chaser with me," James complained as the four of them sat in the Gryffindor stands waiting for the Quidditch tryouts to begin.

"I don't want to be a Chaser," Sirius said. He eyed the students from the other houses who had come to watch the tryouts, his eyes lingering particularly on the Slytherins who sneered at the Gryffindor hopefuls from under the silver and green banners of their stands.

"You only want to be Beater so that you have an excuse to bash heavy, dangerous objects in the direction of Slytherin heads without getting punished," Remus said, looking up from where he was drawing on a large piece of parchment.

Sirius grinned, completely unrepentant. "You know me too well, Moony." He hefted his Beater's bat. "I wish it would start soon. I hate just sitting round and wasting good prank-pulling time." He glanced down at Remus who had returned to his drawing. "What're you up to, Moony? That doesn't look like homework. Are you doing a portrait of me to get you though the long hours of Quidditch practice without me at your side?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. I can't live without the constant presence of Sirius Black in my life."

"You know it's true."

"What  _are_  you doing?" Peter asked, peering over the werewolf's shoulder. "It looks like someone got drunk on square-and-rectangle cocktails and then puked on your parchment."

"It's a map, actually," Remus said, leaning back to examine his work. "I'm drawing a map of Hogwarts. It's only a rough one because I don't have all the measurements, but I thought that if I mark down all the places of the rooms we know, we might be able to guess by the gaps in the map where there are more secret passages and rooms. It won't always work, because the castle is magical, but I reckon that's a better way of finding them than just setting Filch on James."

James shook his head in admiration. "You really  _are_  a genius, Moony. I would never have thought of that."

Sirius smiled at the way that Remus's face glowed at the compliment, even as he ducked his head modestly. "So have you found any?" he asked.

"There's a gap here on the third floor that I think that might be the Hufflepuff common room. We know it's around there somewhere. There's another longish gap here that looks like it could be a short cut from the Transfiguration corridor to the Great Hall." Remus pointed out the areas on the map as the others peered over his shoulder.

"Amazing," Sirius said, contemplating with delight all the mischief they could get up to if they knew the castle better than everyone else in it. "You just discovered two without even getting up from that seat."

Remus grinned. "Well, someone has to be the brains of the outfit."

"Wouldn't it be brilliant if we could magic the map so it could warn us if there was teacher in the room," James said, his eyes growing misty at the thought. "With that, and my invisibility cloak, just think of all the pranks we could pull."

They were interrupted by the magnified voice of the Gryffindor team captain, Alan Terrant echoing over the grounds.  _"Will all those trying out for the team please line up on the Quidditch pitch!"_

Sirius and James leapt to their feet. "Wish us luck, lads," Sirius said.

"Not that you need it," said Peter. "Everyone knows that the two of you are the best in our year. And I heard that the fifth years aren't that great either."

It turned out that Peter was not far wrong. Most of the students trying out for the team this year were mediocre at best. As Sirius waited for his turn, he could see the existing team members' faces growing more and more desperate with each new hopeful. When James's name was called, he turned and winked at Sirius before kicking off the ground.

Sirius had always known that his friend could fly, but even he had never seen James playing as well as he did today. The messy haired boy looked as though he had been born on a broomstick. He ducked and swerved the bludgers with the quaffle in his hand before spinning around and shooting with graceful ease. The red ball soared towards the goal posts and neatly through the hoop before the keeper was able to do a thing.

Sirius could hear cheers erupting from the Gryffindor stands and turned to see Remus and Peter on their feet applauding loudly. Peter's face glowed with something akin to hero-worship as he watched James do a victorious loop-the-loop in the air high above the ground while Remus, appearing to feel Sirius's gaze on him, turned and rolled his eyes, jerking his thumb towards Peter. Sirius laughed and shook his head.

Sirius's name was called next and he climbed onto his broom and kicked off, wishing now that his turn had not taken place directly after James's. His friend's amazing performance would be a hard act to follow.

It turned out that he needn't have worried. The existing Gryffindor team were pretty shoddy and Sirius had no problem ducking the bludgers they sent his way and knocking them off their brooms in return.

 _Take that, Mum,_ he thought proudly, as he swooped around to cheering from the field below. Perhaps not quite as loud as it had been for James, but it was close.  _I can be a success no matter what you think._

He landed on the ground and was hammered on the back by a delighted James. "We were brilliant, mate!" he crowed. "There's no way they can't let us on the team!"

"I don't know," Remus's dry voice said from behind them. "If your ego gets any bigger you'll be too heavy to get off the ground."

James spluttered indignantly.

"I'm just kidding," Remus said, ruffling James's hair. "You were brilliant. You both were." He turned and pulled Sirius into a quick one-armed hug and Sirius caught a brief trace of that warm autumn-leaf smell as he pulled away again.

"You  _really_ were," Peter said, staring at James with admiration.

"I think Peter fancies you now, mate," Sirius said, then ducked to avoid the punch the chubby boy aimed at him.

"I do not!" he said, blushing. "Don't be gross."

"I'm not that bad," James protested.

"I'm sure Evans would beg to differ."

"Speaking of fancying," Remus said, "you should have seen the number of girls that nearly fainted with delight when you two were up there. I'd watch out for Rosemary Turnabout, Sirius. She was displaying some rather alarming stalkerish tendencies."

"Really?" Sirius searched the stands for a glimpse of the girl. "She fancies me?"

" _All_ the girls fancy you, Sirius," James said. "I thought you knew that."

"I didn't think it was  _properly_ fancying," Sirius said. "Not like going-out-to-Hogmeade-on-a-date type fancying."

"There's another kind?" asked James.

"Of course there is," Sirius said, assuming a superior expression. "There's the I-just-think-you're-good-looking-but-I-don't-want-to-go-out-with-you fancying. And the I-fancy-you-but-am-too-much-of-a-coward-to-admit-it fancying. That's what you have with Evans."

"For the last time, I don't fancy Evans," James protested.

"See!" Sirius said triumphantly. "You can't even admit it."

"That's because I don't fancy her. I just think she's pretty."

"Lads!" Remus interrupted. They turned to look at him. "Just go and get changed, why don't you. Come on, Pete."

The two of them headed towards a willow tree under the lake to wait for their friends while James and Sirius headed to the changing rooms, still bickering.

"Potter, Black?" They turned to find a victorious-looking Alan Terrant standing behind them. "You're on the team." The Gryffindor captain was treated to two identically mischievous Marauder-grins and looked a bit worried. "No pranking the team," he added. "We're bad enough as it is without you two helping out."

"We would never!" James gasped as if Terrant had suggested he might let off a dung-bomb in the middle of his mother's funeral. "This is  _Quidditch_!"

Terrant relaxed and smiled. "With you two on the team, we might even be able to pull ourselves out of our losing rut this year."

"We will!" Sirius promised fervently. "There won't be an un-bruised member of the Slytherin Quidditch team by the time I'm through with them."

Sirius finished changing before James and sauntered out the changing rooms to join Remus and Peter. He was so lost in a daydream of single-handedly engineering the win of the Quidditch cup that he jumped in surprise when someone tapped his shoulder. He swung round and felt his face break into a smile as he saw Regulus standing behind him.

"Just wanted to say well done," Regulus said, smiling at him for the first time in ages. "You really flew well today. For a change I was actually happy to admit that I have a bumbling Gryffindor idiot for a brother."

Sirius smiled back, feeling his heart rise in his chest. "Thanks, Reg," he said. "I really – "

"Regulus Black!"

Both brothers turned and saw Bellatrix approaching, Lestrange and Rosier trailing behind her looking resigned.

"What?" Regulus demanded in a voice that was meant to be defiant, but sounded closer to terrified.

"What have we warned you about associating with that blood-traitor?"

"He can associate with whoever he likes!" Sirius snapped. "You don't own him just because he's in your house."

Bellatrix sneered at him. "Don't talk to me you filthy little mudblood-lover. Regulus, I forbid you to talk to him. You know what will happen if you do."

"What?" Sirius turned to Regulus in alarm to see his brother's face turning pale. "Reg, what's she talking about?"

"Come on Regulus," Bellatrix said, her voice turning sickeningly sweet. "What has he ever done for you except get you into trouble? Who would you rather be with? Your House and your family, or that disgusting blood-traitor you call your brother?"

Regulus looked close to tears and his glaze flicked desperately between Sirius and the group of Slytherins.

"Choose you little brat!"

Sirius felt his heart ache as Regulus continued to waver. "Please, Reg," he whispered.

Regulus met Sirius's gaze with frightened grey eyes and Sirius saw the defeat in them. He watched as his little brother turned on his heel and walked away from him without even looking back.

"You see," Bellatrix sneered at him. "Even your own brother can't bear to be with you. You dug your own grave, Sirius Black. Too much a Slytherin for Gryffindor. Too much a Gryffindor for Slytherin."

Sirius's gaze flicked towards the changing rooms where he knew James was probably still trying to flatten his hair in front of the mirror.

Bellatrix's shrill laugh drew his attention back to her. "Him? Potter? He only made friends with you to get revenge on the Blacks. You don't think he really  _likes_  you, do you? And those other losers you hang with? The fat boy and the nerd? They only stick around for Potter. You don't believe me? You'll see, blood traitor. Once day you'll be sorry you ever made friends with them. One day they will turn on you and leave you to rot alone and your family won't come for you then, because you have betrayed us."

"You're a dirty cow, Bellatrix!" Sirius hissed, hurt and betrayal filling his voice like venom. "You don't know what it's like to have real friends- only followers who are too scared to disobey you!  _You'll_ be the one rotting in Azkaban one day, and when you are, I'll stand outside with my friends and laugh at you!"

Bellatrix just cackled, sounding more than a little unhinged and looked pointedly in the direction Regulus had gone in. "We'll see who's laughing at the very end, cousin. You just wait."

She turned and swept away, following the path back up to the castle, Letrange and Rosier close behind. Sirius was left alone, his fists clenched at his sides, his body trembling. He jumped violently when he felt a hand on his back and glanced around to see Remus standing behind him looking pale and shocked.

" _She's_ part of your family?" he asked, staring after Bellatrix in horror. James's invisibility cloak hung from his right hand. Sirius looked at it pointedly. "Yep. That's the Blacks for you. I see you weren't clamouring for an introduction."

"It looked private," Remus said, blushing a little in embarrassment. "I didn't want to interfere, but I wanted to be by to help if you needed it."

"You wanted to be there to beat them up, if I needed you to," Sirius translated wryly.

"If I had to. That Bellatrix is evil. Why haven't your family disinherited her?"

"Disinherited her?" Sirius laughed, unaware of how disturbingly like Bellatrix he sounded in that moment. "My family  _love_ her. She's your archetypal Black. She is what any good Black strives to be. She is what Regulus will one day be once they've finished corrupting him." Sirius sighed, looking away from Remus, staring in the direction that Regulus had gone in. "I really wasn't kidding when I said I'm the white sheep of the Black family. We've been dark for generations. And not so high up on the sanity scale either. All the inbreeding, you know."

Remus shuddered and put a hand on Sirius's arm. "You're not like that, Sirius."

Sirius just laughed again and Remus clenched his hand on his arm. "You're  _not!_ "

"C'mon," Sirius said, reaching down and gently removing Remus's hand. "Let's see where James has got to."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I don't think we should tell him yet," James said. Remus was reading in the library so the three of them had taken the opportunity to have a Marauders' meeting about 'Operation Animagus' in the dorm. "You know what he's like with rules and stuff sometimes. And this isn't just school rules. This is the law we'll be breaking. I say we wait until it's too late for him to stop us."

"I know what you mean," Peter said, "but some of the spells are going to be really hard and we might need him to help us. We've had practically a whole year to look and haven't come up with anything. I bet he could lay his hands on the right book in two seconds flat."

"I'm with James on this one," Sirius said, imagining Remus's reaction if they told him what they were planning. "He and I are really good at spells and potions too, and we're getting better at research and stuff. If we tell Moony, he'll probably hide all the books on animagi in the library just so we can't do it."

"Yeah." James flopped back on his bed and stared up at the canopy. "How  _are_ we going to do it without him finding out? We can't just keep going as slowly as we did last year. Now we don't have detention every night, we need to spend more time looking."

"We'll have to take it in turns," Sirius said. "Whenever one of us is free, we go to the library and try to get information. We'll also have full moon days and days like these when he's off on his own."

"It'll be hard," Peter said doubtfully. "You know how observant he is."

"We have to try."

The three of them sat in silence for a while, then Sirius said, "It must be horrible. You know – having to go through all that every four weeks. I don't know how he does it. I would have given up by now."

"Remus would never give up," James said with great certainty.

"I don't know," Sirius said. "That Christmas with his Dad - I think it was a close thing. I heard him dreaming the other night when I went to the loo. He was moaning and whimpering like a dying animal. He seriously didn't sound at all human. And he kept saying 'just call them, Dad! I don't care anymore. Just call them or do it yourself. Please, I don't care anymore, just do it yourself.'"

James and Peter both looked sickened. "Merlin, are you serious?" James asked.

Sirius didn't even consider pointing out the unintentional pun. "Yes. It was really bad. That's why we have to do this. I don't think it was easy to get him that hurt and desperate, but everyone has their breaking point."

"What did you do?" James asked. "When you heard him having that dream?"

"I didn't want to wake him up," Sirius said. "I thought it would embarrass him. So, I went and sat by him and put my hand on his back. I think he smelled me, because he said 'Sirius' and calmed right down."

James tilted his head to the side reflectively, but didn't comment.

"How long until the next full moon?" Peter glanced towards the window. "I want to start looking for books as soon as possible."

"Couple of weeks," Sirius told him. "Still a while."

Peter sighed and turned away from the window again. "Poor Remus." He sat on the edge of his bed and kicked his legs restlessly. Eventually he stood up. "I'm going to get some food from the kitchens. Want any?"

"Yeah, okay," James said. Sirius nodded and the chubby Marauder wandered out.

Sirius stood up and went to the window as well, pulling himself up onto the ledge and looking out at the half-full moon.

"Remus told me about your cousin. Bellatrix." Sirius stiffened at James's comment, but he didn't turn around. He wished more than anything Remus had kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to talk about this.

"Are they really that bad?" James asked softly. "I always though my family were exaggerating, because the Blacks and Potters have been enemies for so long."

"It's okay," Sirius said, wishing his friend would drop the subject. "I'm used to it."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't want to talk about it."

James was quiet for a while. Sirius heard him tapping his nails against his bedpost. "You know it's not true," James said suddenly. "What Bellatrix said. I didn't just become your friend to get back at your family."

"I know," Sirius said, pretending not to feel the small piece of doubt Bellatrix had raised in his mind melting away.

"You're my best mate," James continued. "Right from the beginning. I wouldn't want it to be anyone else."

Sirius looked over his shoulder and saw James's worried hazel eyes fixed on him. "Same here, mate."

"And if…" James hesitated, searching for words. "If you – you know – need to leave. If it gets too much or they kick you out, you can come live with me. My parents already said so. Mum is totally taken with you."

Sirius wasn't sure whether he wanted to smile delightedly or cry. He wondered how he could have possibly doubted his friend. James was sometimes a little callous and rough, but he was also everything a Gryffindor should be. Brave, noble and fiercely loyal to his friends.

"Thanks," Sirius murmured. "But I really am fine, you know. I'm used to them."

They both looked up as the door opened and Remus came in, carrying his usual pile of books.

"Alright, lads?" he said, yawning and dropping his books onto his bed. He looked at Sirius and frowned in concern. "You okay, Sirius?"

"'Course, Moony."

Remus's amber eyes flicked to James and Sirius saw something pass between the two of them. He wondered how much they talked about him and resolved to hide his family problems better. Remus had enough to worry about without having his friend's difficulties loaded onto his shoulders as well.

It was in an unusually sombre mood that the four Marauders went to bed that night, watched over by the half moon that hovered high in the sky outside the window.


	34. It's All in the Wink

_The wolf,_ _which hunts in a pack,_

_has a greater chance of survival than the lion,_

_which hunts alone._

_(_ _Christian Lous Lange)_

**REMUS:**

_Dear Neil and Angela,_

_I hope you're both okay. I know it's only been a couple of months since the beginning of term, but I am already looking forward to seeing you over the Christmas holidays. Don't worry about not being there the first full moon of the term like last time. My pack was there so I was fine._

_Madame Pomfrey says she and Professor Slughorn might have come up with a potion that will help me get rid of some of my burn scars. It won't help as much on the injuries I have done to myself as Moony, but it might make them go down a bit. She says it will be very painful, but I think I will go ahead and do it. To be able to look down at myself and not just see scars on top of scars...well, the pain would be worth it._

_I was also wondering if you would tell me a bit more about the Black family? It's so hard to tell what's true and what's rumour. I'm very worried about Sirius. His little brother was put into Slytherin at the beginning of last year and it has really changed him. It's breaking Sirius up, and some of the things he says make me wonder what goes on at his home. I think it might be much worse than he lets on._

_James and Sirius got onto the Quidditch team and it has already improved drastically. The other players are still a bit rubbish (except for the captain), but hopefully Gryffindor won't come last for the Quidditch cup as they have for the last five years._

_It's almost Halloween and James and Sirius are dying to pull a prank at the feast. After the prank last Christmas I'm determined to try and tone it down a bit if I can because I don't think the rest of the school will be very impressed if they ruin it for them. Also, I think we could all do without another six months of detention._

_Anyway, I have to go as it's the first Hogsmeade weekend today and the others are about to eat through the walls in anticipation._

_Remus_

"Are you  _finally_ finished?" Sirius demanded impatiently, flopping down hard on Remus's bed, and causing his signature to come out shaky on the bottom of his letter.

"Sirius," Remus complained, swatting his friend's head. "Look what you did."

"Well, you've been writing for ages and we want to  _go_!"

"Okay, but can we at least go past the Owlery on the way?"

Sirius grinned and leapt to his feet, appearing not to care about any detours as long as they were on the move towards Hogmeade. "So while you were mucking around with correspondence, we have come up with an idea for the Halloween prank," Sirius said as though he were carrying on a conversation that had been briefly interrupted.

Remus felt stirrings of suspicion. "Does it involve dung bombs, Peeves, Slytherins with pink hair, and a lot of screaming?"

James and Sirius stared at him. "No, but that sounded interesting," James grinned. "Do continue."

"Not on your life," Remus said. "So what's your plan, then?"

"Well, James and I discovered this amazing fake spider web stuff the other day in Zonko's…" Sirius broke off, looking slightly guilty when Remus stopped and stared at him.

"You three snuck into Hogsmeade again?" Remus glared at his friends who cowered back guiltily, in spite of the fact that they were all taller than him "You  _promised_ you wouldn't after last time! And if you were set on going you should have at least taken me!"

"You were off in the hospital wing," Sirius mumbled. "And you would have stopped us if we told you. We didn't just go there to mess around. We went to look for books on…" he trailed off and looked away as James made a warning noise.

"Books on  _what_?" Remus demanded. "Prank pulling? Hurting Slytherins? Quidditch? You're all so irresponsible!" He was vaguely aware that he was shouting and that they were attracting the attention of other students in the corridor.

"No!" Sirius looked horrified and hurt. "It was for  _you_!" He slapped a hand over his mouth and shot a guilty look at Peter and James who were glaring daggers at him.

"What?" Remus felt the wind leave his sails and was suddenly aware that his letter to Neil and Angela was crunched up tightly in his hand.

"It was for you, Moony," James said, taking over and giving Sirius a look that clearly told him to shut up. "We've been trying to find something to help you… you know… not get ill so much. But we couldn't find many useful books in the library without sneaking into the Restricted Section, so we went to the bookshop in Hogsmeade to see if they had any there."

Remus stood still in the middle of the corridor and stared at their faces. Peter looked frightened, Sirius hurt and guilty, and James apologetic and earnest. Remus found he couldn't meet their gazes for long and turned away, walking towards the Owlery without looking back. The others hurried to follow them.

"We didn't mean to make you angry, Moony," Sirius said, grabbing his arm and trying to stop him walking. Remus shook him off and continued up the stairs.

"Please, Remus," said Peter meekly. "We really are sorry."

Remus opened the door and walked in. The owls that had been roosting around the entrance, sensing a dark creature, took off to the other side of the large circular room eyeing him warily. Remus suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He leant back against the wall and pressed his hand against his closed eyes.

"I'm not angry," he said after a while, aware that they were all watching him uncertainly. "I'm afraid. How am I supposed to protect you if you go off like that alone?"

Remus heard a sharp intake of breath, then suddenly there were two warm bodies on either side of him. He lifted his hand away to see James and Sirius standing beside him, and Peter hovering in front.

"It's not your job to protect us," James said.

"Yes it is! As the strongest member of the pack it  _is_ my responsibility. But I can't do it if you deliberately  _put_ yourselves in danger!"

"It's who we are, Moony," Sirius said. "We don't mean to frighten you or put ourselves in danger, but we can't change who we are. You also need protecting and we're damn well going to do that for you. We just have to find out how. If you wanted a nice, calm, un-ambitious pack, you should have chosen Hufflepuffs."

"There's nothing you can do for me," Remus whispered, the fire leaving his veins. "Do you think I haven't looked? I would much rather have you safe than running off looking for non-existent cures." He hesitated, unsure of how much he should say, but desperate to make his point. "I don't think I could survive if I lost any of you."

"You're not going to lose us, Moony," James said. "We promise we won't let that happen. We'll grow old and crazy together and end up cackling at the good 'ol days while we eat sherbet lemons like Dumbledore. We wouldn't leave you alone."

Remus shook his head. "Don't make promises you can't keep. My mother used to say things like that."

"If we can't make promises we can't keep, then don't ask us to promise to stop being Gryffindors and Marauders," Sirius said, voice quiet. "We didn't do it to hurt you, Moony."

"I know." Remus sighed and shook his head. "I just hate to think of Death Eaters getting hold of you again." He pushed himself off the wall. "Let me just post my letter, then we can take a legal trip to Hogsmeade for a change."

"Here, let me," Peter took Remus's letter and approached the school owls who were still eyeing the werewolf with distrust.

"So," Remus said, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere as they headed out of the castle in the direction of the town. "What's this brilliant prank that you three are planning?"

"Oh, that," Sirius said, as the other Marauders' faces brightened. "We're going to charm the carved pumpkins in the Great Hall to expand and grow eight legs like spiders. Then they'll ambush Slytherins and fling them into these giant sticky webs that you can buy at Zonko's. The only way you can get free is by casting a fire spell on the webs so they shrink away like devil's snare, but the Slytherins don't know that. It's brilliant isn't it?"

Remus sighed. "Why do you always target Slytherins?"

"How can you ask that, Moony?" James looked scandalised. "The Slytherins are our mortal enemies!"

"Well, it's a good plan if you can pull it off," Remus said. "But I reckon we should target the whole school. That way there are more people to blame, more people to laugh at, and more people to confuse the chase once they figure out how to get free and come after us. After 'Operation Battle Robot' I don't think there's much chance they won't guess who it was. And we must make sure no one's life is in danger. That's what got us in trouble last time – those nearly-squashed Hufflepuffs."

The other three grinned at him. "I knew there was a reason you were a Marauder, Remus," Peter said cheerfully. "I guess it means we have even more people to prank."

"Always a good thing," Sirius agreed.

They entered the village that was swarming with Hogwarts students, most of whom seemed to gravitate towards the giant sweet shop, Honeydukes, Zonko's and the pub, The Three Broomsticks. James and Sirius, of course, immediately made a beeline for Zonko's while Peter gave a longing look towards Honeydukes before following them.

"I'm saving most of my money for sweets and chocolate," he told Remus as they entered Zonko's. "We always come here first and I regret it when I see all that lovely food."

"Me too," Remus said. "Neil and Angela give me a bit of pocket money now, but I'm not wasting it on dungbombs to throw in Slytherin cauldrons. You can't really blame those two, though. They don't know what it's like to have only a little money. That's rich purebloods for you."

"I hope you're not talking about us." James and Sirius sauntered over, their arms already loaded with new joke products.

"Yep," Remus said. "We're scandalised that you're spending all your money on pranking stuff when there are piles of chocolate down the road just waiting to be bought."

"That's the talk of a chocoholic, Moony," Sirius said, going up to the counter to pay. "I think you might have a problem. We should wean you off - it can't be healthy."

"No!" said Remus in alarm. "Anyone who touches my chocolate must be prepared to deal with the consequences."

There was laughter from behind them and they turned to see Lily, Rebecca and Alice standing in the doorway to the shop. "I'm sorry, Remus," Lily said, trying to stop laughing. "It's just that you're so much smaller than them and you looked so fierce."

"He  _is_ fierce," Sirius said fervently. "I have no plan to steal his chocolate now."

"Who, Remus?" Rebecca asked, staring at Remus doubtfully.

"Oh yes," James agreed. "Who do you think masterminds all our pranks? He knows more spells and jinxes that all the rest of us put together."

Remus scowled at his friends and they pretended to cower away. "That's not funny. And I'm not that small! I'm nearly as tall as Pete now."

"So what are you up to, Evans?" James asked. "Come to check out the best looking guys in the school?" he ran a hand through his messy hair, in what he obviously considered to be a suave manner.

Lily made a disgusted face. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. We're just going." She stalked out, followed by Rebecca and Alice. Sirius winked at Rebecca as she passed him and she turned as scarlet as her Gryffindor badge.

"Nine," Remus commented.

"I know," Sirius said. "Good isn't it?"

"Nine what?" Peter asked.

"Nine girls now seriously lusting after our Sirius here."

"It's all in the wink," Sirius said. "I thought that since I'm now fourteen, I should start practicing."

"Maybe you should give James lessons," suggested Remus as they finished paying and headed towards Honeydukes. "I don't think Lily was that impressed."

"She was!" James protested, then flushed almost as scarlet at Rebecca had.

"See!" Sirius said triumphantly. "I told you he fancied her!"

"So what?" James looked defensive. "She's very pretty!"

"Potters and redheads," Sirius said, shaking his head.

"Blacks and insanity," James said, imitating him.

"Touché." Sirius looked unconcerned as he lounged against a display case and eyed up the chocolate within. "Look at that, Moony."

Remus leant over and felt himself resisting the urge to drool at the sight and smell of the exquisitely wrapped chocolate delicacies within. They were way out of his price-range, but he couldn't resist staring.

"You want some?" Sirius asked.

Remus backed away quickly. "No, it's okay. I'll get some of the ordinary stuff." He smiled at his dark-haired friend. "It's all in the quantity, not the quality."

"Chocoholic." Sirius smiled at him fondly, grey eyes dancing. "I meant I'll buy it and you can have some."

"I know what you meant. But you shouldn't waste your money."

"Nonsense," Sirius said. "It's not my money. It's my parents'. I love wasting it. I'll probably be disinherited before they die and it becomes mine anyway."

In spite of Remus's protests he bought a massive box of the most luxurious chocolate available, much to the amusement of the sales clerk who seemed to think he would regret it the next time he looked at his pocket-money.

"You should have just told him you're a Black," Peter said as they wandered into The Three Broomsticks.

"Why?" Sirius asked. "I'd rather have him laughing at me than sneaking glances at me to see if he can spot signs of dark spells or insanity."

"Fair point," Peter conceded. "You would also be admitting to sharing blood with her." He nodded towards one corner of the pub where Bellatrix and a few of her Slytherin cronies were huddled together whispering.

Sirius made a face and chose a table as far from his cousin as he could get.

"Cough up, gentlemen," James said, returning from the bar with four foaming butterbeers. "I may be a Potter, but my parents believe in restricting my pocket money to teach me responsibility or some other such nonsense."

The other Marauders dug into their pockets, and tossed James money for the drinks. Remus sniffed his suspiciously. It was slightly warm and smelt faintly of butterscotch. He took an experimental sip.

"You never had butterbeer before, Moony?" Peter asked him in surprise. "I thought everyone had, except for Muggleborns."

Remus shook his head, enjoying the way the butterbeer slipped easily down his throat and warmed his whole body that had become chilled from the cool October air. "My father didn't believe in giving good food and drink to animals," he said without thinking. The response was so ingrained in him that he hadn't even registered that he had said anything wrong until he looked up and saw the others' expressions.

"Er... I mean..."

"Your father is an evil git!" James said, his fingers visibly curling around the wand that he had tucked into the pocket of his school robes. "He's  _lucky_ he's in Azkaban."

Remus looked down. "No, he isn't."

"Hey, what is it with us and having depressing conversations lately?" Sirius demanded. He pulled out his giant box of chocolates and thumped them down on the table. "Help yourselves. Apparently, there's a firewhisky one in there somewhere, though, which I have dibs on."

All the Marauders immediately launched in, all problems forgotten for the moment in a haze of sugared delight. Remus was chewing thoughtfully on a strawberry and banana truffle when he glanced sideways and caught Sirius's worried gaze. He treated his friend to a very chocolatey grin and Sirius relaxed, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder quickly. "You look like post-moon-you when you do that," he said teasingly. "All happy and munching on chocolate."

Remus wrinkled his nose. "Don't tell me things like that."

"Sorry, mate." Sirius grinned at him before reaching out to snag the firewhiskey chocolate from James's fingers before the other boy had a chance to eat it.

Remus watched Sirius pop it into his mouth and thought to himself that he couldn't blame all the girls for falling for his friend. He really was a wonderful, exciting force of nature all on his own. Remus feared for the day that Sirius would become tired of him and move on to more outrageous and confident friends. Remus knew he would be left behind, and that he would never be able find anyone to replace him.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus had never seen his fellow Marauders more devoted to pulling a prank perfectly as they were for 'Operation Pumpkin Spider'. The three of them made constant detours for the library as often as possible, although once there, did not seem to make much progress in finding the correct charms to make the pumpkins do what they planned. Remus wasn't sure if it was lack of skills in the research department, or whether it was just that James and Sirius in particular seemed to be unable to sit in a quiet room without feeling the need to create some kind of disturbance.

"It's all those studious little Ravenclaws perched round everywhere just begging to be pranked," Sirius explained one evening when they returned to the common room, where Remus was helping Peter with his Herbology homework, with nothing to show for a whole afternoon spent in the library. "It's distracting. They should be banned from the library."

"I'm surprised you two haven't been banned yourselves," Remus said, correcting another line on Peter's essay. "I'd have thought you would have been by now."

"We're Marauders. We're very sneaky," James said. He was distracted from further explanations by the arrival of Lily Evans through the portrait hole. "Hey, Evans!" he yelled to her. She turned and glared at him before flouncing off to whisper with her friends.

"You reckon she fancies me?" James asked wistfully.

Remus and Sirius tried to avoid looking at each other. Luckily, Peter came to the rescue. "Sorry, mate," he said. "I reckon you just need to give her time to get used to you."

That proved too much for Sirius who collapsed to the floor howling with laughter. James stared at him in bemusement. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Sirius managed through his laughter. "Tickle in my throat."

Remus couldn't stop himself then and joined Sirius's outburst, rocking backwards and forwards on his chair as he shook with mirth. James and Peter exchanged confused looks.

"What's up with you two?" James demanded, looking affronted. "Why're you laughing like that?"

"'Do you reckon she fancies me?'" Sirius gasped, setting them both off again.

"Priceless," Remus agreed, trying to catch his breath while he wiped his eyes.

"What?" James whacked Sirius on the head with a sofa cushion. "Stop laughing and explain!"

"I'm sorry, James," Remus said, taking pity on their friend. "It's just that  _everyone_ except you and maybe Peter  _knows_ that Lily thinks you're a bit, you know, annoying and um… arrogant."

"What?" James looked shocked. "No she doesn't."

"She's not right," Sirius hastened to assure him, having apparently recovered from his fit of laughter for the moment. "But that's what she thinks."

"No she doesn't!"

"I'm sorry, but she does," Remus felt sorry for his friend as James's face fell. "You just need to show her that you aren't."

"Too right, I'm not." James frowned. "You wait and see. She'll totally fancy me by the end of the week. Sirius, can you teach me your winking thing?"

Remus groaned as Sirius obliged, preparing himself for many long hours of pointless mooning and sighing from their bespectacled friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta has informed me that Bellatrix should have already left school by now, according to canon. Since I somehow missed that important bit of information, I beg you all to pretend she is in seventh year and will leave at the end of this year. I would cut her out, but I have plans (meaningful eyebrow wiggle) for her in future chapters. Sorry for veering off canon. I do try to stay as true to it as I can most of the time.


	35. Operation Spider Pumpkin

_If you have made mistakes, even serious ones,_

_there is always another chance for you._

_What we call failure is not the falling down_

_but the staying down._

_(Mary Pickford)_

**SIRIUS:**

"It didn't work," James said moodily, coming into the library and dropping down onto the seat beside Sirius.

"Ah. I wondered what held you up." Sirius shoved aside the book he had been flicking through and looked sympathetically at his friend's depressed face. "It didn't work?"

"She just said 'for heaven's sake, Potter!' and stormed off with her friends."

"Maybe you were doing it wrong. It always works for me. Watch."

Sirius leaned back in his chair so it was tilted on two legs. He spotted a pair of pretty Ravenclaw second-years at a nearby table and caught the eye of the little blonde one. He raised two elegant black eyebrows at her then winked. As predicted, she turned bright red and turned away, giggling with her friend.

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe I don't have the face for it?"

"It worked when you practiced on that Hufflepuff at lunch," Sirius pointed out. "Maybe Evans is just a really tough one to crack."

"Huh. Maybe. So, you found anything yet?" James looked over the mound of books surrounding Sirius and made a face.

"Nope. Moony wouldn't believe his eyes if he could see us right now. It's a good thing Peter's so rubbish at everything and can keep distracting him with tutoring sessions."

"This is really doing nothing for our image, you realise," James said mournfully. "And we're gonna have to present him with the spells for the prank soon, or he'll get suspicious. Even you and I can't be distracted enough to spend this long in the library without turning up a simple engorgement and animation charm."

Sirius sighed and pulled his book back towards him again. "I know. But it was a good excuse while it lasted. I just wish we could find something. You'd think someone  _somewhere_  along the way thought to write down how to become an animagus."

"I know." James eyed the pile of books on the table with disgust, then sighed, grabbed one and opened it. "We've got another couple of hours here now. Might as well slog away at it for a bit longer."

They worked in relative silence for a while, only making frustrated noises when yet another book proved to be useless. It was almost closing time when James suddenly let out a triumphant exclamation of "Well colour me pink and call me a pygmy puff!" and shoved a copy of  _Transfiguration spells: Advanced level 8_  under Sirius's nose.

"A pygmy puff, eh?" Sirius grinned. "Well, if you insist." He raised his wand and aimed it towards James's head. "Baby pink okay? Or would you prefer magenta?"

"No,  _look_ , you git! I found it!"

Sirius peered down at the book that James had shoved under his nose.

"… _most difficult form of animal transfiguration is the animagus transformation. This spell enables the caster to transform themselves into an animal both wordlessly and wandlessly with none of the excruciating pain of involuntary transformations experienced by creatures such as the werewolf. Animagi have to be registered with the Ministry as soon as the first step of the process is complete and they have discovered their animal form. More information about this process and how it is performed can be found in Gertie Trebbletome's_ Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How To Do It _…"_

Sirius felt a bubble of excitement grow and well up in his chest. He grabbed James round the shoulders and squeezed him as tightly as he could. "You are brilliant, James! Awesome! Evans doesn't know what she's missing!"

"Oi!" James protested, trying to wriggle out of Sirius's grasp. "Stop it, Sirius. And stop making highly disturbing comments like that as well. What if someone had heard?"

"But how are we going to find that book?" Sirius asked, ignoring James and picking up the book to read the passage again. "Gertie Trebbletome's  _Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How Do It_?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you before you started molesting me," James said. "I recognised the author's as soon as I saw it. The Potters are famous for being good at transfiguration and my Dad's a huge fan of hers. She's written loads of books. There's a whole shelf of them in our library at home. I saw them when I was looking in there over summer. I don't think the school would have them - except maybe in the Restricted Section – because they're really advanced and most people consider them to be written a bit archaically. She died a couple of centuries ago. I think she was a Transfiguration Master or something."

"Well, why didn't you think of her before?" Sirius asked in frustration, motioning to the piles of books surrounding them. "We've wasted over a year looking!"

"I don't know! I guess I didn't think. Her books are really hard to read. They're written in this really old English. I have never been able to get past one page."

"I don't care," Sirius said. "Write to you father and ask him to send you the book."

"I can't do that! For one, the books are really rare and antique and he would never trust me to look after one. For another thing, what would I say? 'Hi Dad, this is your prankster of a son who wishes to innocently ask to borrow a seriously dangerous and advanced transfiguration book so he can do extra study for lessons.' The only reason he hasn't magically protected those books from me is because he thinks I would never have enough patience to plough my way through one."

Sirius winced. "Okay, maybe not. You'll have to steal it. And replace it with a fake one so he doesn't notice."

"The next time I'll be home is Christmas. You can come as well, by the way."

"Christmas is such a long way away, though" Sirius complained. "He'll have had three transformations before we've even got the book." He glanced towards the window where the moon hung almost fully rounded indicating Remus impending transformation the next night. He thought about going to James's house for Christmas and felt himself brighten up a bit. "Can I really come to yours for Christmas?"

"Of course," James grinned. "Can't have my best friend hanging round that grim, old place where your family lurk."

Sirius smiled at the play on words. "So we can tell Remus we've found the prank spells now?" he asked, pulling the piece of parchment he had been carrying around in his pocket for the last couple weeks and glancing over it. "We're not going to be able to do anything else until Christmas anyway."

"Yeah, come on," James said, getting to his feet and swinging his bag onto his shoulder. "I don't think I can bear to spend another minute in here if I don't have to. All these books…" he shuddered. "I don't know how Remus finds it restful."

Sirius smiled fondly. "That's just our Moony for you." They wandered out the library and back towards the common room.

"We should all get nicknames like Moony," James said. "Marauder names. Depending on what type of animal we become."

"Ooh, definitely!" Sirius said, contemplating the possibilities. "What shall I be?"

"I don't think you can choose," said James. "Reading that passage it looked like you have to discover your 'inner animal' or something."

"Oh yeah," Sirius said, feeling disappointed. "I'd better not be something pathetic like a hedgehog." James sniggered.

"Moooooony!" Sirius yelled as soon as the two of them entered the common room. Remus looked up from where he was playing exploding snap with Peter, who looked a little singed round the edges. Peter's completed homework was lying beside them. A corner of one of his essays had burnt off.

"What?" Remus asked, absently batting out a small fire on the hem of Peter's robes.

"We found it!" Sirius said excitedly. "We found it, look!" he thrust the parchment with the spell on it into Remus hands before giving a very small nod to Peter who was staring at him with questioning delight on his face.

"It looks good, lads," Remus said, looking over the spells. "As long as the engorgement charm doesn't clash with the animation and transfiguration charms you're using."

"It won't, we've checked," James said proudly.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Wow, who'd have thought? You two checking something before rushing into it head-first."

"Our pranks are always well-planned and executed," Sirius said, pretending to be offended.

"Yes, it's only insignificant things like homework that suffer from your ingrained Gryffindor tendencies," Remus said dryly. "I reckon I'm going to head to bed now." He yawned and began gathering his homework items together, before standing up a little unsteadily. Sirius suddenly noticed how drawn Remus looked a day away from the full moon. His body looked skinny and vulnerable beneath his too-large school robes, and his tawny hair hung wispily around his pale face. Sirius longed to yell out that it would be okay – that they were working on something to help him, but he bit his tongue and said nothing except "Night, Moony."

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Plans for the Halloween prank went smoothly over the next couple of weeks. James and Peter procured frighteningly large quantities of fake spider web from Zonko's while Sirius and Remus worked on preparing the charms for the pumpkins. Then Sirius and Remus were allocated the job of hanging the webs throughout the castle on the morning of the thirty-first of October while James and Peter set the timed spells on the carved pumpkins that hovered among the candles below the charmed ceiling of the Great Hall.

Luckily for Remus and Sirius, the members of staff, led by Professor Dumbledore, had excelled themselves with the Halloween decorations this year, so a few more giant spider-webs among those that Professor Flitwick had charmed to hang from the ceilings were not really noticed.

"I hate brooms!" Remus moaned, as he hovered high above the floor of the high-ceilinged corridor that led to the massive main entrance of the castle. His wand was raised so it could warn him if anyone had set off the two detection charms he had placed on either end of the corridor, while Sirius hovered beside him, gripping his broom hard with his thighs as he used both hands to attach the web. "And I wish you would hold on with at least one hand," Remus continued, trying not to look down at the floor below. "I won't be able to catch you if you fall."

"I'm not going to fall, Moony," Sirius assured him, leaning back a bit to examine the effects of his web. "I take both hands off all the time when I'm playing Quidditch."

"I know. I try not to watch."

"I'm almost done here anyway. Just need to trigger the stickyness charm." He tapped the web three times with his wand and it immediately went from resembling thick, furry grey wool to realistically sticky spider web.

"Don't touch it," he warned Remus. "We'll mess it up if we have to free you."

"Can we go now? Wolves aren't meant to fly. Moony's complaining."

Remus's voice was a little deeper and rougher than usual and Sirius looked over sharply to note that Remus's face had indeed changed a little. His normally gently angular features now seemed more pointed and feral, and there was a flash of gold in his amber eyes. For some reason he could not fathom, this glimpse of Remus's wilder side made Sirius's heart rate quicken with something that wasn't quite fear and more closely resembled the nervous excitement he felt just before pulling a truly spectacular prank.

"There's just one more web," Sirius said, trying to ignore these inexplicable feelings as he addressed his friend. "But we can leave it off if you like. There's more than enough – "

He broke off as Remus's wand gave a warning buzz.

"Someone's coming," Remus hissed. "Quickly – up here."

He flew over to land on the narrow stone ledge that lined the top of the gigantic main doors of the school and shrunk back into the shadow of a small alcove created by the intricate stone carving. Sirius, following him quickly, couldn't help marveling again at how Remus could so effortlessly melt into shadows. The little alcove was not big at all, and when Remus pulled Sirius in with him, Sirius's slightly taller frame blocked all light from entering while Remus stood squashed against the back wall, entirely in the dark.

Sirius couldn't help the instinctive fear he always felt when faced with impenetrable darkness and enclosed spaces. He once again felt his heart rate pick up, this time in fear. He shifted and turned his head to look over his shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of light, but Remus grabbed his chin and turned his face back.

"Your hair and robes are black," he hissed. "If someone glances up they won't see us if you don't turn your head."

"Right," Sirius grated out, trying to swallow his irrational fear. Remus was here. There was nothing that would hurt him. He wasn't alone.

There were footsteps and laughing beneath them as students came down the corridor towards the Great Hall, passing them, then turning the corner out of sight. Sirius felt Remus shift and suddenly there was warm breath on his face as the werewolf leaned forward. He felt his own breath catch in his throat.

"It's just me," Remus whispered very softly. "You know that. Why are you afraid?"

"I'm not," Sirius snapped, just as softly.

"You are. I can smell it."

"Keep your bloody wolf senses to yourself!" As soon as he had uttered the words Sirius regretted them. He felt Remus recoil and was flooded with guilt.

"Moony, I'm sorry! I didn't meant it." He took a step back without thinking – a big step. Suddenly there was nothing to step onto and he realised he'd missed the ledge they were huddled on. He caught a brief glimpse of Remus's horror-stricken face before he fell back, his arms wind-milling uselessly in the air.

" _SIRIUS!_ " The cry was anguished and Sirius glimpsed a tawny blur appearing over the edge of the narrow ledge before an iron-like grip closed round Sirius's right wrist. There was a loud popping sound and he stopped falling with an abrupt jerk. Panting in fear, he tilted his head up to see Remus holding up Sirius's entire weight with his left hand while his right clung onto a piece of carved stone filigree in a death grip that was all that was keeping them both from plunging thirty feet to the hard, stone floor. Remus's fingers were white with the strain and Sirius could feel him shaking. Even for a werewolf, holding up Sirius's entire body-weight as well as his own with one hand was an almost impossible task, particularly for someone with a smaller frame like Remus.

"Don't drop me!" Sirius begged.

"Never," Remus panted back. His eyes were wide and watery but they looked oddly calm. "I got you. I won't let go. I promise."

"Can you pull me up?"

"Not like this," Remus confessed, "and I dropped my wand."

"Me too." Sirius looked down to see it lying far below and regretted it when he saw the distance he had to fall. All that lay between him and his death were the slim, pale fingers clasped tightly round his wrist.

"S-s-scream then?" Remus panted, his face now flushed and carrying a sheen of sweat.

Sirius nodded.

 _"HELP!_ " they screamed. " _HELP! PLEASE!_ "

They were both so frightened and out of breath their voices hardly carried at all, but to their utter relief they heard the sudden sound of approaching footsteps.

"…Thought I heard someone yelling," said a familiar voice.

Remus and Sirius exchanged desperate looks before screaming again, " _Help! Lily! Evans! Help, Quickly!"_

"That's Sirius and Remus!" This time it was an even more familiar voice and Sirius found a new burst of energy as he screamed  _"JAMES! GET OVER HERE YOU GREAT GIT, BEFORE WE DIE!_ "

Sirius forced himself to look down again as four people hurried into view. James and Lily leading, and Peter and Frank just behind. When James looked up and spotted his friends, he swore loudly.

"Oh Great Merlin!" Frank yelped, seeing them as well. Lily and Peter could only stare, open-mouthed, as the blood drained from their faces.

James visibly straightened and pulled out his wand. "Remus, hold on! I'm going to cast a lightening charm on him!"

Sirius felt an odd sensation flood his body, as though he had been dipped into a fizzy drink.

"Let him go, mate," Frank said. "We'll catch him with a hover charm. Merlin only knows how you're holding him up to begin with."

Sirius gave a frightened sob as he stared down. He didn't want Remus to drop him. Remus apparently felt the same because he gasped, "Not on your life," and began to inch back, pulling Sirius up with difficultly, in spite of the lightening charm. Sirius scrabbled for the edge with his hands and feet and eventually managed to get a grip and pull himself up just as a tingling sensation indicated that James's rather weak and hurried charm was wearing off. Remus remained where he was, dangling over the edge with only his one hand supporting his weight. He appeared to be unable to move.

"Moony?" Sirius reached out and pulled the smaller boy back onto the ledge with him, reaching out to pry Remus's fingers from the carved decoration. It was only when he saw little crumbs of broken sand-stone clinging to his friend's hand that he realised how hard Remus had been holding on. Remus's wrist and fingers looked odd too – deformed and crooked. Sirius glanced at his other hand and saw it was in the same condition.

"Remus! Your hands!"

"I th-think I dislocated some of my j-joints," Remus managed to say. He was shuddering violently against Sirius's side.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sirius said, putting his arms around him and drawing him closer.

" _Sirius!_ " James called up. "Get down here!"

Sirius peered over the edge and felt nausea rise as he saw the four up-tilted faces staring at them. He scrabbled behind himself for the brooms, and pulled himself onto it with Remus in front of him. The werewolf couldn't grip anything with his damaged hands, so Sirius held him around the waist and guided the broom to the floor with his knees.

"I'm n-never flying again!" Remus mumbled, as he practically fell off the broom to be caught by Peter and Frank. "Can we please go to Madame Pomfrey about my hands?"

He held out his broken, distorted hands and wrists and the others gave yelps of shock.

"You were holding him up with your hands like that?" Lily demanded.

"It was that or drop him."

"Moony, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sirius couldn't think of anything else to say. To his shame he felt a tear escape and trickle down his cheek. He suddenly realised what the loud popping sound had been as Remus caught him.

Remus looked at him, surprised. "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident. Madame Pomfrey'll be able to fix them in a jiffy. Then we can go to the feast. Does someone have my w-wand?" The fact that Remus swayed between Frank and Peter belied his brave words.

"We'll get your wand, mate," James assured him. "You and Sirius just go to the hospital wing."

Remus obediently turned in the direction of the Hospital Wing and managed to stagger there between Frank and Peter, with Sirius hovering protectively behind.

Madame Pomfrey was not impressed when she heard the not-entirely-true story of Sirius running down one of the moving staircases, tripping and almost falling over the edge until Remus rescued him.

"Honestly!" she scolded them. "There is a  _reason_ why there is a no-running rule in this castle!"

"We were in a hurry," Remus explained, then let out a yelp and a keening whine of pain as Madame Pomfrey's spell popped his bones back into place. Sirius was glad Frank had left with Peter to find out if James and Lily had recovered Remus's wand from the ledge. Those sounds would have given away Remus's identity for sure.

"Pulling some ridiculous Halloween prank, I'm sure," she said, sounding very stern, but giving herself away by the crinkling of a smile at the corner of her eyes

"Who, us?" Sirius asked innocently.

"Don't think I am taken in by that innocent look for a second, Mr Black. Drink this, Remus."

"Why is he 'Remus' and I'm 'Mr Black'?" Sirius complained as Remus gulped down a pain-relieving potion followed by a pepper-up.

" _He_  has manners."

"She has a point," Peter said as he and James walked in. "Another casualty, Madame Pomfrey."

Sirius turned to see James walking in with bright violet hair and a nose in the shape of a pig's snout.

"What happened to you?"

James scowled and slumped down on the bed next to Remus.

"He asked Evans to be his Halloween date," Peter helpfully supplied. "In fact, I think his exact words were 'I know you want to be my Halloween date, Evans. So how about it?' Then she called him a callous, unfeeling pig and zapped him."

"I guess that means 'no'," James mourned. "What went wrong? We were actually having a nice conversation about the  _accio_  charm. Here's your wand, by the way, Moony."

"I reckon it might have been the manner in which you asked her," Madame Pomfrey offered, obviously making a valiant effort not to laugh.

"What was wrong with it?" James asked.

"Well, it wasn't very romantic, was it?" Remus offered.

"Oh."

"We won't be late for the feast, will we?" Peter asked. "Only I'd be sorry to miss it." He gave his fellow Marauders a not-very-subtle look.

"I'm sure you will get there in time," Madame Pomfrey said, pretending not to notice.

It turned out they were ten minutes late, but it didn't matter since the prank was due to begin near the end of the meal. The Marauders were on the edges of their seats the whole time. Sirius noticed that even Remus, who could barely hold his cutlery in his still-stiff and slightly swollen hands, was practically glowing with anticipation.

The first pumpkins to begin swelling, of course, were over the Slytherin table. The orange fruits grew slowly at first, then faster, the speed at which they were growing slightly distorting the carved faces so they looked rather like they were leering down at the students below. As other pumpkins around the room began to swell as well, the ones over the Slytherin table, which had reached about two metres in diameter, began sprouting legs.

People around the hall began noticing the change and gasps and squeals of surprise were heard from every table as the pumpkins swelled and started sprouting legs. There was a breathless moment when the now spider-like pumpkins hung stationary in the air, then the animating charm kicked in and the pumpkins descended in a giant orange wave. They scuttled to the floor and, before the students had time to react, started grabbing them around the waists with their front arms and carried them kicking and yelling from the hall to toss them up with the aid of an in-built hovering charm so they landed in the sticky webs that lined the corridors.

The whole school was filled with screams as the students struggled to get free. Sirius was thankful that they had thought to retain the hovering charms on the trapped students, as a few of them happened to cast the correct fire charm and found themselves suddenly free and drifting to the ground. If he and Remus hadn't dropped their wands as he fell earlier, the disaster could have been averted this easily for them as well.

As the students began to figure out how to free themselves, the screaming slowly turned to shouts and laughter. The corridors were soon filled with students of all ages laughingly avoiding the scuttling pumpkins in a bizarre game of tag that resulted in, not only the ground, but the air as well being overrun with excitable adolescents.

The teachers, having given up on trying to disable the pumpkins, sought instead to implement crowd control and spontaneous lessons in the fire charm for the younger students who remained trapped until a kind elder thought to free them.

The Marauders threw themselves into the fray with everyone else, calling delightedly to one another as they flew through to the air to land in the webs and congratulating themselves on not restricting this prank to the Slytherins who would then have had all the fun on their own. Even Remus, who had started out looking terrified when a pumpkin-spider grabbed him, appeared to have forgotten his fear of flying and soared gracefully though the air to land beside Sirius with a wide grin on his face.

"I know I'm not going to fall and die like I would on a broomstick," he explained at Sirius's questioning gaze. "The charm keeps me safe and Moony doesn't have time to panic, because I'm only in the air for a short amount of time."

Sadly, the charms on the pumpkins eventually wore off and they began spontaneously exploding and showering pupils and teacher alike with sticky orange sludge.

It was at this point that Professor McGonagall spotted the Marauders and made her way over.

"I suppose we have you gentlemen to thank for this evening's chaos and mayhem?"

The four of them assumed matching innocent expressions and protested vehemently.

"Don't try and deny it," she said tiredly. "Sir Nicholas saw you hanging up the webs. Apparently he thought you were just adding your own decorations to the halls. He should know better by now."

Sirius and Remus exchanged glances. They would have to think of a way to alter the warning charm to include ghosts.

"Two week's detention every night with myself or Filch and eighty points from Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall added.

"Only two weeks, Minvera?" the Marauders heard Slughorn ask quietly in a disapproving voice as she headed down the corridor.

"It would have been longer," she told him, "but you have to admit that that was some truly spectacular charm-work."

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Sirius sat up late that night, the light of his wand hidden by his bed curtains while the others slept. He rolled up the right sleeve of his pyjama top and stared down at the ring of bruises that encircled his wrist. He had not mentioned this injury to any of the others. He did not want it healed. He knew he deserved it for what he'd said to Remus a few seconds before he slipped off the ledge. He never would have believed he was cruel enough to come out with such a comment, even in a moment's blind fear.

These bruises represented the lengths Remus would go to keep him safe. Clinging onto Sirius with a hand that was literally popping out of its socket under the strain and still promising never to let him fall. Sirius knew he did not deserve Remus's friendship, and he treasured it all he more because of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a fantastic video reenactment from this chapter, check out the Mischief Managers video at the link below!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AP6PhIbzr8Y&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE&index=4


	36. The Trials of Mrs. Potter

_Christmas is a time when you get homesick - even when you're home._

_(Carol Nelson)_   
**  
**

**REMUS:**

The months leading up to Christmas were relatively uneventful for the Marauders. The terrible detentions they were subjected to under the care of Filch (usually involving the confiscation of wands, the dirtiest boys' toilets, toothbrushes and elbow grease) saw a brief reprieve in Marauder activity, even from James and Sirius. This was also partly due to extra Quidditch practices that were arranged to prepare them for the house match against Hufflepuff in November.

The day of the match dawned overcast and grey, which did nothing to dampen the spirits of the team's two newest players. Even Sirius – who usually didn't make a voluntary appearance at the breakfast table before eleven 'o clock – woke up bright and early to help James drag Remus and Peter out of bed and to the Great Hall.

"I don't want to wake up yet," Remus complained, as Sirius dragged him by his sleeve through the doors and to the Gryffindor table.

"Yes you do!" Sirius told him cheerfully. "It's your pack's first proper Quidditch match. You  _want_ to be here."

"No, I don't. I want a new pack. Some Hufflepuffs. Who don't enjoy Quidditch and hibernate in the winter."

"Eat this." Sirius grabbed Remus' hand, placed a piece of toast and a sausage in it, closed his fingers again and patted him on the head. "Good boy."

Remus stared at it sleepily. "I'm not a dog. Where's Hamish?"

"Asleep in your pocket." Sirius ladled himself a huge portion of porridge and then poured half a jar of golden syrup onto it.

"I've changed my mind," Remus announced. "I don't want a new pack. I want to be a hedgehog. Then I can sleep when I like, get fed and carried around in someone's warm pocket."

"And transfigured into a pincushion," James reminded him.

"And charmed red and gold," added Peter.

Remus gave up and chewed sleepily on the sausage in his hand.

"We have a brilliant chance against Hufflepuff," James said, apparently unable to resist the subject of Quidditch for any length of time. "They are as rubbish as we were before we got us."

"Don't talk," Remus begged. "You make my brain go fuzzy."

"I told you, Remus, you should get new friends." The boys looked up as Lily, Alice, and Rebecca seated themselves at the table, wearing Gryffindor colours in preparation for the match.

"Evans!" James looked delighted. "Come to watch us hammer the Hufflepuffs? Or is it just to admire my fantastic moves on the broom?"

Lily made a face as Remus groaned and bumped his head to the table. "Don't talk to me, Potter. It's too early in the morning to be feeling this homicidal." She turned her back and began dishing herself up some breakfast.

"You think we should give him some lessons in talking to girls?" Sirius whispered to Remus, stirring his porridge as he watched the scene with interest.

"There's no point," Remus sighed. "That thick Gryffindor skull of his will repel any sense we try to knock into it."

"Are you two whispering about me?" James demanded.

"Why would you think that?" Sirius asked.

"Because you have that same helpless and exasperated look that all the teachers get when they talk about me," James said sulkily.

Half an hour and a lot of toast and sausage later, they finally escaped the hall and headed out towards the Quidditch pitch. Even though he was wrapped up well in a thick coat he had borrowed off James, Remus shivered as the icy November wind cut right through him. It was only a couple of days after the full moon and his resistance was always at its lowest point at this time.

"You all right, mate?" Peter asked, as the two of them headed towards the stands. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you weren't feeling well and wanted to go back in."

Remus shot Peter a disbelieving look.

"Okay," Peter amended, "they  _might_ mind a bit, but once you explained why, they wouldn't. Especially Sirius. You know how protective he is of you."

"Yes," Remus said rolling his eyes.

"He just cares about you. Besides," Peter gave Remus a sideways glance. "You're just as bad about him."

Remus looked down, uncertain as to why the conversation was making him so uncomfortable. Friends were allowed to be protective on one another weren't they?

"I'm fine," he said to Peter, changing the subject. "I'm just a bit chilly." He grinned suddenly. "Some good Marauder-style cheering should take care of that."

Peter's face lit up. "You have something in mind? Is it hard? Could you teach me?"

"I'll teach you the easier bits," Remus assured him. "I found it in a book when I was looking up charms for the map. There were all sorts of things in there about animating images and stuff. Quite interesting, but nothing I could really use. I was hoping I could find a charm that would be able follow the staircases and moving rooms so they showed up in the right places on the map. And maybe warn us when teachers are approaching. I was thinking of altering the this charm that automatically writes the name of a person onto their clothes so that, instead, it would automatically write a person's name on the map to mark where they are…" he trailed off as he noticed Peter's face glazing over. "Peter?"

"Sorry!" Peter said, looking guilty. "I only got about half of that. It sounds good, but James and Sirius would understand it better. I really am sorry. I'm just a bit slow. You know that."

Remus felt sympathy well up inside him. "Hey, forget it Pete. I was rambling anyway. And you have strengths - you're loyal and you have a great sense of humour which is brilliant in a Marauder. And you notice things too - things that James and Sirius miss all the time. About people and what they're thinking and feeling."

Peter stared at Remus. "You really think all that? Sometimes I feel like I don't belong in the group. Like James and Sirius will get tired of me one day and just abandon me."

"Me too," Remus whispered.

"You feel that?" Peter looked bemused. "They would never abandon you. Especially not Sirius."

"You can't know that," Remus said. "It's stupid, but something Sirius said the other day when we were hanging up the spider webs made me wonder what would happen when the novelty of me being a you-know-what wore off and they began to notice all the bad things about being friends with me. I know how you feel, Pete. Like you're just hanging onto their friendship until they suddenly turn around and see you clearly and realise they've made a mistake. But you know what I always tell myself when I feel that?"

"What?" Peter asked, his eyes wide.

"I tell myself that they have their faults and insecurities too. And that one of those faults is a complete lack of tolerance for anyone they feel the slightest dislike for. Think of the Slytherins, and Slughorn, and Snape. And what about the new DADA teacher – who seems to be competing with Binns for most boring teacher ever? They  _never_ hold back in tormenting them, do they? So they must  _really_ like us in order to let us into their group. Those two only do 'really like' and 'tormenting material'. Nothing in-between. Remember how they used to be with me?"

"Oh, Moony. I'm sorry about that."

Remus smiled and shook his head. "You've all made up for that a thousand times. You have nothing to be sorry for."

The two of them climbed up the Gryffindor stands and wedged themselves among the rest of the fourth-years.

"Let me teach you the charm," Remus said and Peter obediently got out his wand. By the time the match was due to start, Remus was fairly sure that his friend had got the incantation and wand movement correct.

"Do it when the first Gryffindor goal is scored," he whispered to Peter, over the noise of the cheering as the players swooped in.

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see."

They didn't have long to wait. Although many players of the Gryffindor team weren't exactly brilliant, the poor Hufflepuff team was even worse. Their Chasers lumbered round looking lost as James and Tor Patil zipped in-between them, and their beaters – although not too bad – were no match for Sirius who rocketed around the pitch in a blur of motion, seeming to rain bludgers down on the opposing team. Remus glimpsed his face briefly as he paused to watch the Hufflepuff keeper spin out of control after being hit. Sirius's head was thrown back, delighted, triumphant laughter etched on his features and his cheeks whipped rosy by the winter air while his black hair was tussled by the wind.

Something seemed to crack inside Remus in that moment and it spilled over, filling him with a warmth that started low in is stomach and moved up to his chest.  _Wonderful,_  was the word that came into his head without him consciously thinking it. _Just wonderful._

He was jerked back to reality by Peter who jabbed him hard in the arm. "Remus! Wake up! He's scored!"

Remus jerked his head away from Sirius and spotted James doing a victorious swoop through the air as the stands shook under the weight of the cheering. He felt a sharp stab of guilt for missing his friend's first goal.

"Quickly, do the charm!" he urged Peter, before pulling out his wand and muttering his own incantation.

Streams of red and gold glittering light streamed from Peter's wand and rained down in harmless star-like sparks on the spectators. Peter looked utterly shocked and delighted that his spell had actually worked. From Remus's wand, a giant, glittering golden lion with a fiery red mane emerged and prowled gracefully up into the air above the Quidditch pitch. Remus concentrated and gave his wand another little flick. The lion turned and bowed to the Gryffindor team before throwing its head back in a triumphant manner that was strangely reminiscent of Sirius, and let out a great roar that drowned out the gasps and cheers. Then it exploded in a shower of scarlet and gold sparks that again rained down among the spectators.

Remus grinned as the whole pitch erupted into more cheers, and felt that new warmth fountain up inside him again as Sirius swung round to stare at him in awe before putting two fingers in his mouth and letting out a piercing whistle of appreciation.

This display seemed to give the Gryffindor team new heart and the Hufflepuffs were left floundering in their wake. After twenty minutes of further play, the Hufflepuff seeker made a desperate snatch and managed to grasp the snitch, but even then, the Gryffindors beat them by forty points.

"I'm going to go and wait for the others by the dressing rooms," Peter said, his eyes still starry and excited. "You coming?"

Remus tucked his hands under his armpits and jumped up and down as a new burst of icy wind blew over them. "I might wait down there in the shelter of the stands," he said, his teeth beginning to chatter. "Pick me up on the way back to the common room?"

Peter grinned and nodded before running off.

Remus shivered again and edged around until he was standing almost completely under the Gryffindor stands, which acted like a wind-break. He was surprised when a little, huddled figure staring out towards the Gryffindor changing rooms indicated that he wasn't the only one who had sought refuge here.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

The figure swung round and Remus found himself confronted with a pair of wide grey eyes that looked almost identical to Sirius's except that Sirius's had never held that expression of cringing, fearful defeat and unhappiness.

"Regulus?"

"Don't talk to me!" snapped the boy, his gaze flicking towards the Slytherin stands where groups of green and silver clad students still lingered.

"It's okay, they can't see us," Remus assured him. "Were you looking for Sirius?"

"I don't want anything to do with that blood traitor!" Regulus's eyes belied his words as they turned, against his will, in the direction of the Gryffindor changing rooms with an expression of longing.

Remus bit his lip. "He's your brother. Your blood," he told Regulus as gently as he could. "That's so much more important than any stupid house prejudice. Nothing should come between you. He  _misses_ you, Regulus. It's tearing him up inside that you won't talk to him."

Regulus's eyes snapped back to Remus and he sneered, deliberately looking him up and down and taking in the state of his shabby robes and shoes, and the over-sized coat. "Blood?" he spat. "That's rich coming from someone who testified against his own father to have him thrown into Azkaban!"

Remus actually staggered back at the comment, a ball of hurt scrunching up behind his ribs and seeming to swell up to choke him. "That w-was different," he whispered. "Sirius loves y –"

"Sirius loves no one in our family," Regulus interrupted coldly. "He put up with me because he needed me to plant candles and parchment in the cellar for him when he got thrown down there for being too Gryffindor! He just wanted to corrupt me too!"

"No…" Remus said. "He's not like that at all…"

"No? Do you have any  _idea_  how hard it is for me to be in Slytherin while he lounges around building up his reputation as the Gryffindor idol?"

"He doesn't mean…"

"No! He doesn't  _care_! I thought he did, but he doesn't really give a damn."

Remus stared at him helplessly and Regulus lifted his chin and sneered again. "He  _chose_  to be in Gryffindor," he told Remus spitefully. "Did he ever tell you that? The hat wanted to put him into Slytherin with the rest of us, but he  _had_ to be different. He doesn't  _care_ about you. Or Potter, or Pettigrew. You're all part of his armour and his weapons against us. It's all for us, not you."

The words hit home and Remus felt Moony rise up inside him in self-defence as pain seemed to sear through his chest and throat. "Get away from me!" he hissed desperately. He could  _not_ hurt Sirius's little brother.

"Hit a nerve?" Regulus taunted, unaware of the danger.

" _Get away!_ " Remus wasn't even sure if he was talking to Regulus or Moony anymore. He  _was_ aware that his voice had deepened and that a vicious growl was fighting to get out. His nails bit into his palms as he clenched his fists tightly.

Regulus finally seemed to sense something and took a nervous step back. Moony howled triumphantly in Remus's mind.

"Regulus, get out!" Suddenly Sirius was there, herding his brother roughly out from under the stands while Remus stood with his eyes and fists screwed shut, desperately trying to regulate his breathing.

He smelled Regulus retreating. His scent was similar to Sirius's and he supposed that was why he reacted so badly to the smaller boy's taunts. Moony had reacted to them as though they represented the betrayal of a pack member.

"Remus? Moony? Look at me."

Remus forced himself to open his eyes and was once again confronted with stormy grey. This time, however, they held an expression of concern and care and something else that seemed to flare right in their depths. It reminded Remus strongly of that exhilarating emotion he himself had felt as he watched Sirius laughing on his broom.

Remus felt his breathing slowly becoming more regular as Moony retreated to the back of his mind. As the emotion ebbed, the cold of the winter air rushed back in and Remus felt his teeth begin to chatter again.

"What did he say to you?" Sirius asked, reaching out to pull Remus into a rough hug. "What did that  _git_ say to you?"

Remus leaned up against Sirius's chest breathing in that familiar blue-grey scent that  _was_ different to Regulus's. It was. He felt safe and protected and suddenly all the anger he had for Sirius's little brother drained away.  _This_ was what Regulus had lost. This was the reason why that scared little boy had lashed out at one of the people who had taken his brother from him. Remus couldn't blame Regulus because he had the feeling that he would do a lot worse than throwing a few taunts if he were in a similar position.

"Nothing," he sighed to Sirius. "It wasn't his fault. He was afraid and alone and he didn't know what else to do except lash out at me."

"He  _shouldn't_ have."

"Yes, he should," Remus whispered. "It might help them to accept him as one of their own."

Sirius let out a huff of air through his nose and squeezed Remus a little tighter before releasing him. "I thought you were going to attack him."

"I know. Me too. I'm so glad you came when you did." Remus shuddered to think of what might have happened if Sirius hadn't arrived. "It was because he smelled a bit like you, I think. Moony associates that smell with pack."

"That could have been messy," James agreed, from where he and Peter were watching outside the shelter of the stands.

"Let's go inside," Sirius said. "I think you might actually be turning blue with the cold, Moony. We can't have you flaunting Ravenclaw colours like that."

"It's his inner Ravenclaw fighting to get out," Peter said. "I knew it was in there somewhere."

The started up towards the school at a jog in an effort to keep warm.

"By the way," Sirius said, turning to grin at Remus, "That lion was  _awesome._ "

Remus grinned back, his stomach squirming delightedly at the praise. "We needed the first match with Marauders in it to be memorable," he said. "Besides, you two were awesome too. We needed something to mark the occasion."

"I think we need something else as well," James said. "Like a party and lots of food from the kitchen. And loud music."

"And that was James displaying awesome-ness of his own!" Sirius declared slinging his arm around the messy-haired boy. "Lead the way, mate."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It felt odd to Remus to be wishing his friends farewell that Christmas. The fact that they were a pack now made the parting more painful as he sat in Neil's battered car on the way to the Anders' small house in the Muggle town, Hempstead Green.

"Are you all right, Remus?" Angela asked in concern, turning round in the passenger seat to study his expression. "You don't look very well."

"It's nothing," he assured her. "I'll just miss them, you know?"

"Is this a pack thing?" Neil asked, glancing at him in the mirror.

"I don't know," Remus admitted. "It could be a friend thing. I'm pretty new to both." He smiled reassuringly at them. "I've been looking forward to coming back all term."

"You have?" Angela looked delighted.

"Yeah, I really have."

"Well, it's going to be amazing," Angela said. "We're going to have a huge Christmas dinner and eat until we're sick and then wake up in the morning and open all our presents together."

"It sounds wonderful," Remus said, but even as he said it, he thought of Sirius and the way that he had been forced to lie to his family to be able to spend Christmas with James. Remus wished he had been able to invite him to stay with the Anders as well, but their house was tiny and their resources almost as tight as his father's had been. Remus couldn't understand where all their money was going as they both had full-time jobs at the Ministry, but he didn't have the courage to ask.

"You can see your friends on boxing day," Neil said, obviously seeing Remus's expression grow pensive again in the mirror. "Mr. Potter spoke to me at work. He's also an Auror, you know. Though he's a bit higher up than me. Nice bloke. Said they wanted you to stay for the week leading up to the start of school. Do you want to?"

Remus felt his face light up. "Mr. Potter said that?"

"Yes," Neil said. "Do you know him?"

"No, but James talks about him a lot. He sounds nice. I just thought it was kind of him to invite me when he's never even met me."

Angela smiled at him. "Do you still find it so hard to hear that people are willing to give you a chance?"

Remus felt his smile falter a little. "Well, he doesn't know I'm a werewolf."

"It wouldn't matter," Neil said with certainty. "He said to me that you've been a very good friend to James. He said that James and Sirius talked about you all the time last summer." He grinned at Remus as he pulled into their drive. "He seemed to be under the impression that you owned a very badly behaved rabbit. Apparently he overheard James and Sirius discussing your 'furry little problem.'"

"My  _what_?" Remus wasn't sure whether he should be touched or mortified. He opened the door and went around to retrieve his trunk from the boot. "Couldn't they have thought of a better code word for it?"

Angela almost fell out the car she was laughing so hard. One of her snake-like silk scarves clung onto the doorframe to hold her up, while the white stuffed dove that perched on her winter hat cooed loudly in protest.

"It's not funny," Remus told her, although he couldn't prevent his mouth from twitching into a smile as well.

"But it is!" she gasped, "Your furry little problem." she started laughing again.

"Angela," Neil said, mock sternly, "you'll scare the poor Muggles if you carry on like that. And you shouldn't encourage her," he added to Remus.

"Encourage her? I'm not the one who married her. You must have known what she was like."

Feigning indignance, Angela stalked to the front door. "Just for that, I'll let Remus cook tonight."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The novelty of having a family who cared for him had not yet worn off for Remus. Christmas passed like a scene from a fairytale, a blur of rich dinners, laughter and warmth. The Anders did not have a lot of money, but Remus thought he couldn't have been happier had they lived in a castle and showered him with presents.

Sadly, he could not remember much of Christmas day itself as his transformation had taken place on Christmas Eve, but the Anders solved the problem of this missed celebration by putting Christmas back a couple of days so their own private Christmas celebration occurred over the twenty-first and twenty-second of December rather than the twenty-fifth. Remus had been so touched by this gesture of care and love that he thought his heart might explode from love and happiness for his new family.

The last lingering nervousness about whether they would accept him melted under the warmth of the little living room fire as he sat on the floor against the sofa on the real Christmas day and Angela carded her fingers through his hair. He knew that at almost-fifteen he should be too old for this, but as long as no one else knew, he didn't think he could be blamed for craving this motherly attention. Especially as he was wrapped up in bandages and had only just recovered from his child-like state.

"I think you should floo the Potters and let them know you will come the day after tomorrow instead," Angela said, putting down her book and leaning forward to look at Remus's face. "You look like you need more time to recover."

"What?" Remus sat up abruptly and turned to stare at her. "This moon was bad because my pack wasn't here. I've had an amazing time with you, but I really, really want to see my friends again. Please"

"Well, how are we going to explain your injuries?"

"I'll hide them," Remus said. "Like I always do. James and Sirius have already told them that I'm ill a lot."

Angela sat back in her chair and sighed. "I just want you to be well cared for. I hate that you have to go through this."

Remus knelt up so he could meet her eyes. "Angela, you and Neil have done more for me than anyone has  _ever_  done before. You've given me a family and made me comfortable, and I can't ever remember being this happy. You can't do any more for me. This is just the way I am."

"I know," she whispered. "And of course you can go to your friends tomorrow if you think you'll be well enough.

Remus smiled. "Thank you."

Smiling back, she leant forward to kiss his forehead.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It turned out that Potter Manor was in Surrey, right on the outskirts of London. Neil transported Remus there by sidelong apparition once the Potters had keyed them into their wards. It was an experience he hoped not to repeat in the near future – like being squeezed into a rubber tube that was just too small for him.

When he opened his eyes, swaying a little in pain because his injuries had been aggravated by the trip, he felt his mouth drop open in awe. They were standing on a long gravel driveway surrounded by green fields, woodlands and gardens that stretched out on either side. Ahead of them, framed by the horse-chestnut trees that lined the drive, stood the manor house itself. It was a massive, pale, stone building with high, arching bay windows going up five stories. Intricately carved sandstone pillars lined the front entrance which was a stone stairway leading up to a pair of large wooden doors.

Remus had never seen so much wealth belonging to one family outside of books. Although he knew his friend was rich, he had never dreamed that pureblood wealth placed James on the level of an aristocrat from times gone by. He suddenly wondered what Sirius's house looked like. He knew it was in London, so it probably didn't have the same extensive grounds, but he pictured it to be a huge building as well – though its stone would probably be dark and its carvings sinister in contrast to the ones on the Potter residence.

"Great Merlin, Remus." Neil was standing beside him with an expression of shock to match his adopted son's. "You really do know how to pick your friends."

"I didn't choose him because he was rich," Remus said still staring at the house. "Maybe you got the directions wrong."

Neil wordlessly pointed to the stonework above the door. It showed a coat of arms with the word 'Potter' carved in copperplate lettering beneath. The shield was backed by a golden sun and a lion reared up on one side with a hippogriff on the other.

"Shall we knock?" Remus asked nervously, as they headed up the drive to the house.

"I suppose so," Neil replied. He put his hand under Remus's elbow to help him up the stone stairs when he staggered a little on the way. "Let's hope they haven't got you on the top floor, eh?" He reached up and lifted the lion-head knocker, dropping it against the wood of the door. They could hear it echoing through the house beyond.

Shortly afterwards, there were three familiar whoops of delight followed by yells of "Remus is here!" and a swishing sound that ended in a loud, resounding crash. This was followed by a woman's voice yelling "What have I told you two about sliding down the banisters! Honestly, I thought having one boy was bad.  _Reparo!_ "

"Sorry, Mum!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Potter!"

The front door was flung open and Remus was knocked off his feet in a tangle of limbs as James and Sirius launched themselves at him. " _Moony!_ "

Peter followed at a more sedate pace, climbing down the stairs rather than using the banister.

"Ow!" Remus gasped in a mixture of joy and pain. "Get off, get off! I'm ill!"

"You're ill?" James sat up and looked at his face, obviously noting the dark rings beneath his eyes and the tightening the pain caused around his mouth. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, Moony. Did we hurt you?"

"No, no. I'm good," Remus reassured him. "I would be even better if Sirius vacated my chest and allowed me to breathe before I begin demonstrating my Ravenclaw colours again."

"Sorry," Sirius climbed off and pulled Remus to his feet. "You don't look well, mate."

"I'm surprised he's breathing at all after that horrendous greeting you boys gave him," said a stern voice. Remus looked up to see Mrs. Potter; tall, willowy woman with very dark auburn hair and James's hazel eyes. "Hello, Remus."

"Hello Mrs. Potter," he said, a little nervously. He was used to seeing her surrounded by other Mums and Dads at the station, or looking harried and stressed as she tried to control James and Sirius at Diagon Alley. Here in her element, she looked intimidating; standing in the Potter's massive portrait-lined entrance hall in dark green robes with her long hair coiled elegantly around her head. Then her face creased into an expression of worry so like James's that Remus felt nearly all his nervousness leave him. "Sirius is right. You don't look well. Are you all right?"

"I'm good," Remus assured her. "I get ill a lot. Yesterday was bad, but I'm fine now."

"Yesterday?" Peter asked, looking horrified. "As in Christmas day?"

"Yep," Remus said. "Pretty much don't remember most of it. It's okay though. We just shunted Christmas to a different day this year. It was pretty amazing."

"Is he really okay?" Mrs. Potter asked Neil.

"Remus is fine," Neil assured her. "He's put up with this for most of his life. He knows how much he can take. He has potions in his bag if he feels unwell, and he knows not to strain himself too much." He glanced at Remus a little uncertainly with that last statement. "You do know that, don't you Remus? I don't want to hear stories of you sliding down banisters or pranking anyone or exploding bits of parchment and setting the living room on fire."

Remus huffed indignantly. "That was a mistake and you know it," he said. "I didn't  _mean_ for it to explode. It had taken me ages!"

"You made something explode?" Sirius asked, looking delighted.

"I didn't mean to," Remus explained. "I was trying to charm the staircases on the map."

"What happened to the map?"

Remus made a sad face and mimed a dramatic explosion with accompanying sound effects before wincing and clutching his side.

"Sofas, curtains, carpet," Neil added to Mrs. Potter who was watching the scene with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. "All smoking, and Remus standing in the middle going 'my map, my map!' It took a lot of restoration spells, I can tell you."

"And you looked like such a sweet, well-mannered boy," Mrs. Potter mourned. "I should have known you would be another little hooligan."

"Oh, Remus is the brains behind our operations," James said. "He's brilliant! As long as you don't ask him to cook or make potions, 'cause then things tend to explode."

Sirius nodded gravely in agreement, and repeated Remus's mimed explosion from earlier.

"I wish you luck," Neil said to Mrs. Potter. "Putting these four together for any period of time can only be considered a recipe for disaster.

"James promised me Remus was a calming influence on them," Mrs. Potter said, looking doubtfully at the werewolf who treated her to a mischievous grin.

"I lied," James said cheerfully. "Come on, Moony. We'll help you take your stuff up. We're only one floor up. Think you can manage it?"

"I'll be fine," Remus said. He turned to wave goodbye to Neil and smiled as the man ruffled his hair.

"No underage magic!" Neil called after him as James and Peter began lugging his trunk and Hamish's basket upstairs, and Sirius put his arm around Remus's shoulders to help him up as well.

"Don't worry!" Remus called back. "I'll have to redraw the map before I try anything else!"

Strangely, that comment did not seem to reassure the man in the slightest.


	37. Motorbikes and Naked Girls

_"It is not so much our friends' help that helps us_

_as the confident knowledge that they will help us."_

_(Epicurus (341 - 270 BC) Greek philosopher)_

**SIRIUS:**

Christmas at the Potters was one of the most amazing experiences of Sirius's life. Perhaps the thing that felt the most special was the fact that the Potters never treated him like an outcast  _or_ a guest. They treated him as another son – hugging him, scolding him, giving him treats, allocating chores for him, playing Quidditch with him … it was something Sirius had never experienced before and as a result lapped up like a thirsty dog.

One of the first things he and James did when they arrived at the manor was to steal the book on animal transfiguration from the Potter library, replacing it with another one that they wrapped in the original's dust jacket so it didn't stand out from the others. James had not been kidding when he had described how complicated and archaic the text was. Together, they spent nearly all of their quiet time poring over the book trying to decipher the tiny copperplate words and put together manageable instructions on how to carry out the animagus transformation.

"Once we've worked it all out and tested it," James said, as they lay on their stomachs in his room getting some last minute studying in before Remus and Peter arrived later that day, "we must write the Marauder's version that's readable by normal people. And we'll definitely introduce the new and exciting letter 's' into proceedings. I mean, look at this!"

He held out a page and put his finger under a line which read;  _When thou haft achieveft the defired effect to an exemplorie degree by initiating the altered_ cave canus _charm under the correctlie recommended conditionf, one fhould find the refulting canine to be fufficiently altered to the cafter's fatiffaction…_

"We need Remus," Sirius complained, tilting his head to the side to see if the passage made any more sense from a different angle. "He reads stuff like this for fun. What does 'fuffciently altered to the cafter's fatiffaction' mean?"

"'Sufficiently altered to the caster's satisfaction', I would imagaine, " James told him. "Just think - if you had lived in this era, you would have been called 'Firiuf'." He frowned down at the notebook in Sirius's hands. "So what have we got so far on animagi? And on a side note, do you know your writing is almost as curly and whirly as hers is?"

"It's not my fault," Sirius said. "My mother hired the best copperplate tutors in Europe to teach my brother and me. If we didn't write perfectly they would make us use those quills that scratch the words out on the back of your hand. It became ingrained rather quickly. Pun fully intended."

"Those quills are illegal," James said, disturbed. "They could get put in Azkaban for that."

Sirius raised an elegant black eyebrow at his friend. "The Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black? People would be more amazed if we  _didn't_ do things like that."

"Evil buggers," James muttered. "No offence."

Sirius shrugged. "We pride ourselves on it."

"So what  _have_ we got?"

"Well, we know you definitely can't choose your animal." Sirius flicked through the pages of his notebook. "It's part of who you are. And that you have to take a potion and meditate to discover what it is before you can even begin trying to change. We've worked out what most of the ingredients for that potion are, though some are a bit obscure and we're going to have to find a book on ancient herb-lore to discover what they're known as nowadays. Then there are more spells and potions and a  _lot_ of practice before you can actually become the animal. I hate to break it to you, mate, but I reckon it's going to be a very long time before we can actually become full animagi. Especially if we have to be sneaking around Moony all the time as well."

James sighed and traced the lettering on the cover of  _Gertie Trebbletome's Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How To Do It_. "Well, it's the only plan we've got."

"I know."

The sound of the door-knocker echoed through the house and both boys brightened. "That'll be one of the lads," James said. "Quick, hide this stuff in my safe." He stood up and tapped one of the pictures in his room with his wand. It swung open to reveal a small safe filled with James's many 'treasures' – most of which were objects that no one but another mischievous adolescent boy would want to steal anyway

Sirius jammed the book and his notebook inside, before they slammed it shut and headed downstairs to greet their friend.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It turned out to be Peter at the door. Remus arrived later, looking very pale and sickly due to the full moon the day before. Sirius felt himself relaxing for the first time in weeks as he helped his friend up the staircase to his room. He hadn't realised how stressed he was when he was unable to check up on Remus until the tension left him. He glanced across and smiled when he saw Remus staring round Potter Manor wide eyes and open mouth.

"If you're not careful, nargles will come and nest in your mouth," Sirius teased him. "What's the matter – never seen a proper house before?"

"No," Remus murmured. "Not this big, anyway. I've never seen  _anything_ this big except for Hogwarts. Did you really grow up here, James?"

James looked at him in surprise. "Yeah. I though you knew."

"I didn't know how  _massive_  it was. How long does it take to clean?"

James shrugged. "Who knows? The house elves do it."

"House elves. Right." Remus sounded rather faint.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Sirius said shaking his head in bemusement. "The Black country estate is twice this size and Grimmauld place is not much smaller. I thought most people's houses were this big on the inside."

Remus and Peter gave him incredulous looks and James said, "Do you even know how much it costs to get permission from the Ministry to make your house larger on the inside? Hundreds of Galleons just for a few square metres. Dad told me when I wanted us to install an indoor Quidditch pitch."

"Really?" Sirius asked. "My parents must have spent nearly all my inheritance on extending Grimmauld, then. My mother's taken it up as a hobby."

"I can't believe you don't know this," Remus said. "Don't you remember what my house looked like when you came to rescue me that time?"

"I didn't really think," Sirius admitted, picturing the tiny, poky living room and small battered kitchen they had walked through. "I guess I thought it was the house elves' entrance or something."

He was aware of the other staring at him and flushed. "Well, I only got to go to other pureblood houses when I was little and Hogwarts is pretty big as well."

"You really should have taken Muggle Studies this year," Remus said. "You and James both. Honestly! And I thought  _I_ had a sheltered upbringing."

"Wait!" Sirius said, stopping suddenly and turning to stare at Remus who was eyeing the top of the stairs with relief as he held onto his side. "You lived in that tiny house your whole life until Hogwarts?"

Remus looked embarrassed. "Well, Dad took me to Diagon Alley a couple of times."

"A couple of times?" Peter asked weakly. "Where else did you go?"

"Nowhere," Remus said. Now it was his turn to look bemused. "I told you he kept me shut up."

"But weren't you really scared to go to school then?" James asked. "If you'd never really been in other places with other people before?"

"Yes," Remus admitted. "I was bloody terrified. That's why I was hanging round at the station on the first day. And why I don't…didn't really know how to make friends."

"Oh, Moony," James looked torn up with guilt. "I'm sorry!"

"Why? It wasn't your fault."

"But I was  _mean_  to you."

"Well…" Remus glanced at Sirius for help. "You're not anymore. I don't care. You're my friends now."

"Come on," Sirius said, determined to change the subject before it became unbearably soppy. "That's your room up there." He bounded up the stairs and opened the door with a flourish.

" _This_ is my room?" Remus said, leaning against the doorframe and staring in with a look of wonder on his face. "Our whole house could fit in here. Where are you lot sleeping?"

"The other doors down the hall," James said. "Dinner will be ready in a bit, so just dump your trunk and we can head down to the kitchen."

"Down again?" Remus asked, looking back at the stairs they had just climbed with resignation.

"It only takes a few seconds if you use the banister," Sirius told him.

"I though you weren't allowed."

"If she really didn't want us to she would have put an anti-sliding charm on it," James said cheerfully. "We'll go first and catch you at the bottom so you don't hurt any of your injuries. Bad moon?"

Remus shrugged. "You lads weren't there. It was okay. I've had worse."

"You've always had worse, Moony."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Most of the Potter Manor was not used in the family's everyday lives, and the small section in which the Potters actually lived seemed much more homely and welcoming than the exterior first suggested. In spite of their wealth, Mr. and Mrs. Potter believed in doing things for themselves. The house elves were in charge of taking care of the main house while Mrs. Potter did most of the cooking herself. She also allocated chores like washing dishes, painting rooms, or weeding the kitchen and formal gardens to James - and Sirius when he was there - in order to teach them that 'nothing in life came easily.'

Sirius was particularly unamused by this lesson a few days later when he found himself washing up in the kitchen while the other three Marauders sat in the living room playing Gobstones with Mr. Potter.

"Blacks aren't designed to do menial tasks like this while their friends play Gobstones without them," he announced to the room at large, eyeing a piece of floating pasta with disgust. "Especially without magic. We're designed for looking down on people and bossing people about and being crazy and… um… torturing people…"

"You sound like a very pleasant family," Mrs. Potter said dryly, and Sirius glanced over his shoulder to see her standing in the doorway watching him with amusement.

"Then I wasn't describing us very well." He rinsed a plate and placed it in the dish-rack.

"I'll dry up and keep you company," she said. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about anyway."

Sirius immediately tensed. Pleasant conversations very rarely followed those words. "What about?"

"Remus."

Sirius glanced through the door of the living room where James was chasing Peter and trying to stuff a gobstone down his shirt, while Remus sat beside Mr. Potter on the sofa, his face alight with laughter. Sirius felt a familiar surge of protectiveness well up inside him.

He went over and quietly closed the heavy kitchen door before walking back to the sink, his heart hammering. What did she want to know?

"He wouldn't have heard us," Mrs. Potter reassured him.

"Remus has very sharp ears." Sirius went back to washing the dishes.

"I just wanted to know what's wrong with him," Mrs. Potter said. "It's impolite to ask, but he just seems so wasted and drawn. I mean he's better now, but I'm worried he'll get worse again. When you boys said he gets ill a lot, I thought you just meant he was prone to colds or wizard flu or something. I just need to know what I'm dealing with, Sirius. I thought I would ask you because you seem to take the most care of him."

"I do?" Sirius thought about it for a few seconds. "I suppose I do. I worry about him."

"I know," she said gently. "Will you tell me?"

Sirius's mind raced. He hated having to lie to her, and he wanted her to understand how much Remus suffered, but he knew he could never tell her Remus's secret.

"He asked us not to talk about it to people," Sirius said, as truthfully as he could. "We're not going to catch it. It's something he developed really young."

Mrs. Potter looked frustrated. "Can't you tell me anything else?"

"You're putting me in a very difficult position," Sirius admitted. "I don't want to betray confidences."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Can you at least tell me a bit about it? Is it fatal?"

Sirius thought about Remus's wounds on the bad days, and Madame Pomfrey saying, "It was a close one this morning." He thought about the Ministry and the punishment Remus would receive if he was ever discovered, or if Moony accidentally killed someone.

"It can be," He said eventually. "There is a high chance he will die because of it. His mother did. And sometimes I think he might just give up himself. If he ever stopped fighting against it every day, I don't think he would survive for long."

Neither he, nor Mrs. Potter spoke for a long time, and the only sound in the kitchen was the swish of water and clink of dinner plates. Eventually she cleared her throat. "Thank you, Sirius. I won't ask you again. I just… I wish I could do something for him. Anything, really."

"We all do," Sirius said. "James, Pete and I are determined we are going to do something to help him one day."

"You're good to be friends with him."

Sirius frowned at her tone. "It's not a chore, Mrs. Potter. We aren't friends with him because we feel sorry for him. We  _like_ Remus. In lots of ways he's the strongest of the lot of us. He holds us together. If something happened to him I don't know what I would…" Sirius trailed off, his face heating up at an alarming rate. He hadn't intended on voicing his feelings so strongly, and he suddenly realised that it probably wasn't something a fifteen-year-old boy should be saying out loud if he wanted to retain any street cred at all.

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that," Mrs. Potter said gently. "It's just very rare that teenage boys can look past physical weaknesses to see a person's strengths."

"Can we stop talking about it now?" Sirius was beginning to feel trapped, and wasn't sure how much longer he could answer her questions without lying or giving away Remus's condition. To his relief, Mrs. Potter's face softened, and she gave a short nod.

"Of course. Forgive me. Thank you for talking to me."

She sighed and dried her hands on her dish-towel. Then she reached out and affectionately ruffled Sirius's hair before opening the door and returning to the lounge. Sirius turned back to the washing up, his heart still racing as he thought back over the conversation to see if he had accidentally given away any clues to Remus's condition.

"I don't know what I would do without you, either," a soft voice said behind him, causing him to jump guiltily.

"Moony." Sirius glanced at him. Remus was leaning back against the kitchen table with his arms crossed over his chest. "I should have known you would overhear that, although I thought the door was pretty thick. How good  _is_ your hearing anyway?"

Remus smiled. "Not  _that_ good. I have to confess to a bit of eavesdropping. I heard her say she wanted to talk about me, so I snuck over and pushed the door open a crack again and sat nearby."

"Huh. Marauder."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Remus pushed himself away from the kitchen table and wandered over to lean on the counter beside Sirius instead. Having recovered a lot in the week since he had arrived, his movements no longer looked laced with pain and his tawny hair glowed with reddish tints in the dimmer light of the kitchen. As Sirius watched him, he thought that it must be Remus and not himself who was the best-looking boy in their year.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning his head away and pretending to be absorbed in washing the last of the dishes. "But she asked. I didn't know what to tell her."

"You did very well. I would have just stuttered and mumbled and made her suspicious. I don't think you even directly lied to her."

"I didn't want to. I really like Mrs. Potter. She's exactly what I picture a proper mother to be like."

"Yeah," Remus said wistfully. "Me too." He glanced sideways at Sirius and a light blush flourished on his cheeks before he directed his gaze to the floor. "It meant a lot to me – what you said to her at the end. About not just being friends with me out of pity. I really don't know what I would do without you either. I definitely wouldn't have survived this long, I don't think."

Sirius wished he could believe that Remus meant that figuratively. "I meant every word, Moony," he said, also blushing. "I didn't mean to come out with it – it wasn't exactly manly – but I  _did_  mean it."

"I know. And I just wanted you to know it meant a lot."

Remus raised his head to meet Sirius's eyes and Sirius felt his heart rate pick up, though he couldn't have said exactly why. It was that same electric, excited feeling he had felt when he and Remus had been sticking up spider webs on their brooms. Something that wasn't Moony but seemed just as wild and enigmatic seemed to flare in Remus's eyes as well. It felt like they were standing on the edge of something important – one more step and they would fall into something new and frightening and wonderful.

Then there was a loud crash as James and Peter fell in to the room, trying to wrestle a gobstone from one another. Neither one seemed to notice when a kitchen chair toppled over onto their heads. Mr. Potter was cheering from the lounge, while Mrs. Potter winced and put her hand over her face.

"I won it!" Peter was yelling. "It was mine by rights!"

"You did not! I  _saw_  it go wonky!"

The moment between them was gone and Sirius didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. He wondered if it had been another mysterious 'pack thing', and if it happened to James and Peter as well. Strangely he hoped it didn't. It felt too personal – something special between Remus and himself.

"Do you reckon we should help them?" Remus asked, still leaning against the counter.

"Nah, I wouldn't bother," Sirius said. He flung the last plate onto the dish rack before emptying the sink with relief. "I vote for a trip into Muggle London tomorrow. You and Pete  _did_ promise one this holiday."

There was an even louder crash as James and Peter hit the ornamental dresser and created an avalanche of plates that rained down on their heads. "I'll second that," Remus said. "One more day with you lads and your cabin fever and I might go feral myself."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"What on earth possessed us to do this?" Remus asked Peter, as James and Sirius flirted shamelessly with the refreshments lady on the train so they could get a longer look at the hot chocolate machine.

"I don't believe it does that without magic," James pronounced, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

The refreshments lady looked a little confused, and eyed her trolley dubiously. "What?"

"That thing that makes hot drinks. How does it work if you don't have magic?"

"Er…" she stared at him, obviously trying to figure out when either the bad joke or chat-up line would become apparent.

"It has to be magic," Sirius put in. "Things don't run without magic. They must have nicked it from us."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Remus sighed. "Ignore them. They don't get out much. It's electricity." He added to James and Sirius.

"That thing that they do where they catch lightning and put it in a box?" Sirius eyed the machine suspiciously. "Sounds like the kind of mental thing Muggles would do."

"Sounds like a fire hazard to me," James added. "Will it blow something up, Pete? Can I have a cup?" He fumbled in his jeans pocket and pulled out a handful of galleons, sickles and Muggle coins. "Which one do you want?" he asked the lady holding out his hand to her.

She glanced at Remus doubtfully. "Give them hot chocolate," he sighed, reaching out to pick out the correct amount of change from James's hand.

"You can't just say stuff like that in front of innocent Muggles," Remus scolded the two dark-haired boys as she moved away.

"Well, it  _is_ mental," Sirius said, completely unrepentant. "And this tastes vile."

"It's train hot chocolate," Peter said. "It's supposed to taste vile."

"Well, why did we get it then?"

"Because you wanted to see if the machine would explode."

Things did not drastically improve once they were off the train. Sirius couldn't believe he had been living so close to such an alien world without taking an interest before. He and James gaped at traffic lights and light bulbs, and loudly exclaimed over vending machines and a television they spotted in a shop window playing a black and white film of two dancing muggles. Sirius wondered if he would be allowed to switch to Muggle Studies with Remus before the OWLs to find out more about the Muggle world. How on earth could they do all this without magic?

Sirius almost jumped out of his skin when a ferocious-looking Muggle machine roared to a stop right beside where he was standing on the pavement. A man dressed in black leather dismounted, pulled off his helmet, glared at the gaping boys and headed into a nearby shop.

"What the hell is that thing?" James demanded.

"It's a motorbike," Peter said rolling his eyes. "Honestly, don't you know anything?"

"How fast does it go?" Sirius stared at the motorbike with hungry eyes. It was the most intricate and beautiful muggle machine he had ever seen. It  _looked_  fast even though it was standing still.

"I dunno," Peter said absently. "As fast as a car, I guess. You want to go shopping now?"

The man returned from the shop with a pack of cigarettes which he shoved into his pocket. He gave the boys another suspicious glare, before shoving his helmet back on, swinging his leg over the bike and roaring off again.

"I think I'm in love," Sirius said dreamily.

"Eew!" James said. "He was all old and hairy and dirty,  _and_ in case you hadn't noticed,  _male_."

"Not the bloke," Sirius said, making a face at his friend. "The motorbike. I want one."

"What on earth for?" Peter asked. "In a few years you'll be able to apparate. Plus you have a broom."

"Didn't you  _see_ it?" Sirius demanded. "It was amazing! Fast and streamlined and shiny. Plus my mother would  _hate_ it."

"And in the life of Sirius Black, that's always a winner," James said, rolling his eyes.

"You can't have a motorbike," Remus said. "Where would you put it?"

"Don't know, don't care. Can I at least have a picture? A big one. To hang on the wall of my room with a permanent sticking charm. And another one for our dorm. Maybe two in my room." Sirius sighed happily at the thought of Kreacher clawing frantically at an immovable picture of a motorbike while his mother stood in the doorway of his room and shrieked.

"We could probably find some posters," Peter said, starting down the street with the others trailing behind. "But won't you get in trouble?"

"It would be worth it to see her turn purple and start tearing her hair out. And it'll remind me of my new life's ambition."

"Which is?" Remus asked with resignation.

"To own a whole  _herd_ of motorbikes," Sirius announced. "And when I inherit Grimmauld Place, I'll keep one in every room and ride them up and down the stairs all day."

"They won't work in such a magical environment," Remus said. "Muggle technology doesn't mix well with magic."

"Then I'll alter them to run on magic," Sirius said, unfazed. "You could help me, Moony."

"Yay for me," Remus said dryly.

"And we can make them go even faster. And maybe even fly. Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Here's a place that sells pictures," Peter interrupted, entering a small, dark shop that sold records, videos and posters.

"Peter, my friend!" Sirius said, bounding into the shop, "You are a true Marauder!"

The others followed at a slightly slower pace, and by the time they caught up, they found Sirius staring open-mouthed at something on the poster rack.

"What? What?" James demanded.

"Naked girls," Sirius said faintly, pointing. The poster in front of them depicted three buxom, scantily clad girls lounging on a tropical beach.

"Well, damn," James murmured. "What kind of shop is this anyway, Pete?"

Sirius turned to see James and Remus staring with equally shocked and fascinated expressions. Peter was, oddly, looking at the three of them incredulously. "They're not  _naked_ ," he said, shaking his head. "Honestly –  _wizards!_ They're wearing bikinis."

"Bee-what-sies?" James asked, apparently unable to tear his eyes away.

"Bikinis. Swimming costumes. Haven't any of you been to a Muggle beach in the summer? Everyone wears these. Well, not guys. They just wear the bottom half."

"You mean muggles wander round like this all the time?" Remus demanded in disbelief. "I've never seen any and I've lived in a Muggle neighbourhood ever since I was with the Anders.  _And_  I take Muggle Studies."

"Not  _all_ the time," Peter said patiently. Sirius got the impression he was enjoying being the one who knew something that the others didn't for a change. "Just in summer. And usually just on the beach."

"Muggles are odd," Remus said, leaning closer to the poster. "Where do you think it's taken? The Caribbean?"

"Who cares?" asked James. "There's practically naked girls on it."

"Watch it, mate," Sirius said, grinning. "You're drooling. Hey, Pete, why aren't they moving?"

Peter gave him another incredulous look. "You know for two people as clever as you and James, you really are quite slow," he said. "It's a Muggle poster. They're Muggle girls. Therefore – no magic. They stay in the position they were in when it was taken."

Sirius looked up at the poster again and felt an idea dawning along with a wide grin on his face. "You know who would  _really_ hate this poster?"

"You  _wouldn't,_ " James said, looking away from the imobile girls for the first time to stare at Sirius in awe. "It would be suicidal!"

"Oh, Sirius, don't," Remus said. "She might actually kill you."

"A permanent sticking charm," Sirius said musingly. "This is brilliant! Now find one of a motorbike."

"You want a motorbike as well?" James said, flicking though the rest of the posters. "Why? There's loads of naked girls here."

"I told you, I'm in love with motorbikes."

James flipped through the rest of the posters before pausing triumphantly on a picture of a long-legged blonde girl astride a motorbike. "Here you go. Two in one. Girl and bike."

"I want a different one," Sirius said, scowling at the poster. "She's covering all the best bits of the bike with her legs."

James gave him a disbelieving glance, before obediently moving on until he found a few more posters just depicting motorbikes.

"Good," Sirius said with satisfaction. "I'll have all the ones with motorbikes and two naked girl ones."

"You're really going to buy naked girl ones?" Remus demanded, looking embarrassed on Sirius's behalf.

"My mother will hate them," Sirius said, as if that answered the question.

Remus shook his head. "You're going to get into trouble."

Sirius shrugged and carried to posters to the counter. "You getting one?" he asked James.

James glanced back longingly at the bikini-clad girls. "I would, but if you think  _your_ mother's reaction would be bad, you should try mine."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Hey, Moony, what's this?" Sirius called to the tawny-haired boy who was having an animated discussion with Peter about washing machines while Sirius and James explored the rest of the electrical shop under the disapproving gaze of the shopkeeper.

Remus came over and stood on tiptoe to peer over Sirius's shoulder. He smiled wistfully when he saw what his friend was looking at.

"It' a tape player," Remus told him. "Muggles store music in tapes like these," he pointed to a few that were stored on a rack, "and then put them into that slot and the music plays out loud through the speakers. Like a wizard's wireless."

"They do that with electricity?" Sirius asked, dragging out the last word to ensure he got it right. "These Muggles are brilliant."

"My mother had one," Remus said, looking at the machine. "It was older than this one, of course. She adored Muggle music. She was a Muggle-born witch and she loved everything in the wizarding world, but she always liked Muggle music over wizard music because it reminded her of her childhood." He reached out and ran a slim-fingered hand over the buttons of the tape player. He smiled at Sirius. "I like it for the same reason."

"I'll buy you one," Sirius said impulsively. "Choose some of those tape things."

Remus took a little step back. "No, Sirius. You can't just keep buying me things. I'm not a charity case. Besides, it wouldn't work anywhere in the wizarding world. Like your motorbikes."

Sirius frowned at him. "I don't think of you as a charity case. But I have more money than I know what to do with. I want to spend it all before my mother disowns me. We'll magic it so it works."

"If you didn't do things to deliberately antagonise her, she wouldn't disown you." Remus gave him a frustrated look and waved his hand towards Sirius's bag of posters.

"You of all people should know what it's like!" Sirius snapped back, unaware that his voice was rising in volume. "You of all people should know that if I didn't deliberately do things to make her angry she would find them on her own! Just being Gryffindor is enough to have me locked in the cellar for a week!" He turned his head away, tilting it towards the tape player so Remus wouldn't see his face. "At least this way I feel like I've won a bit of pride back," he said. "This way I have some control. You should know, Moony. You of all people should know."

There was a long silence from everyone in the shop. Eventually Sirius heard Remus moving behind him and an arm went around his waist, although Remus made no move to look at his face – almost as if he sensed Sirius's need for privacy.

"You're right," the werewolf answered him, equally softly. "I do know. But I was never like you. I didn't take control. I let it all happen and tried to please him all the time. You're right. It didn't make a difference. Maybe it even made it worse."

Sirius felt some of the deep guilt inside him lift at the words. It was as if hearing Remus say them confirmed his belief in what he was doing. The tension drained from his body and he turned to give Remus a smile that he's intended on being cheeky, but was probably more along the lines of shaky. "Does this mean you approve of my naked ladies?"

Remus made a face and stepped away. "I will never approve of your naked ladies."

"Why?" Sirius demanded.

"It just seems…tacky. You know; sticking pictures of naked girls on your wall. It should mean more than what."

"What should mean more than that?" Sirius asked, loving the way his question made a rosy blush rise to Remus's cheeks. "Sex?"

"There's no reasoning with you when you're in this mood," Remus said, his cheeks still pink.

"Go on, Moony. Say it. Sex. Sexsexsex."

" _Don't_ Sirius!"

"You can't do it unless you can say it. Come on, Moony. You know you want to. Sex, sex, se-ex."

"Does it look like I plan on doing it any time soon?" Remus demanded. "Make him stop, James!"

Sirius glanced over his shoulder to see James and Peter watching them with a mixture of amusement and relief.

"You already said it, Moony," James said, grinning at Remus's embarrassment. "There's no reasoning with him when he's in this mood."

"Argh!" Remus said, throwing up his arms impatiently. "Sex. There, are you happy? Sexsexsex. Honestly!"

Sirius grinned and patted Remus on the head. He wondered why Remus's hair was always so soft when Sirius  _knew_ he never even conditioned it. "Good boy. Now go and choose some tapes."

"I'm not going to," Remus said, folding his arms and jutting his chin forward stubbornly. "If you get disowned, you'll need all the money you can get."

"Fine, don't," Sirius said, feigning indifference. "I'll buy a tape player anyway and choose all the music myself. James will help me and he will pick out all the ones with naked ladies on the front. I can see one from here."

"Yay!" James said, starting forward and sending a wink over his shoulder at Sirius.

"I'm not going to fall for it," Remus said, turning his back on them and smiling apologetically at the shopkeeper who was beginning to look very annoyed.

"There's one here with a naked lady who has a snake wrapped around her," James commented, holding it up.

"And another one with two girls who seemed to have put on paint instead of clothes," Sirius added. "You can even see their – "

"Fine!" Remus yelled, swinging round and yanking the tape out of Sirius's hand. "I'll choose some!"

Sirius grinned triumphantly. "… Nipples," he finished, relinquishing the tape and bowing towards the racks. "Go on then, Moony. You know if you blush like that in front of girls they will be falling over themselves to go out with you. It really is disturbingly cute. What, Potter? It is! Deny it if you will."

"You're a boy. You're not supposed to say things like that," James said, shaking his head and aiming a kick at Sirius.

"I'm a Black," Sirius said serenely. "I can say whatever I like."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It seemed like a very short time before Mr. and Mrs. Potter loaded the four boys into the Hogwarts Express with expressions of great relief on their faces.

"Merlin himself knows that those teachers at your school don't get paid enough to take you all on," Mrs. Potter said, leaning through the train window to hand Sirius back the shoe he had charmed to blow loud raspberries and chase Snape round the station as soon as they had arrived.

"Have fun, boys," Mr. Potter added. "Give them hell. Where's James?"

"He went to find the snack trolley," Peter volunteered

The train belched out a billowing column of steam before beginning to roll away from the station.

"Tell him goodbye from us!" Mrs. Potter yelled after them, jogging to keep up. "And don't prank the teachers! And don't get detention! And don't…" The rest of her words were swallowed by the noise of the train as it sped up and moved away from the station.

"Where  _is_ James?" Sirius asked, pulling on his shoe.

"Went to find Evans," Peter volunteered again, rather more truthfully.

"Ah," Sirius said, sitting back. "I should've guessed."

James didn't return for a long time, and just as Sirius was about to go and search for him, he made an appearance, accompanied by a peal of feminine giggles. Sirius gaped at the door as it slid open to reveal James and a blonde-haired Ravenclaw girl named Bronwyn Kemp, who wore so much pink lipstick that Sirius was surprised her lips didn't droop under the weight of it. She clung to James's arm possessively.

"What's she doing here?" Sirius demanded.

"She's my girlfriend," James said, blushing furiously.

"Your  _what?"_  Peter asked, also gaping.

"My girlfriend. Keep up, Pete."

"Um…" Remus spoke up from his seat beside the window. "Hi Bronwyn. Would you mind giving us a minute?"

"Why?" she demanded. "He can go out with anyone he likes."

"It's not that," Remus said, looking mournful. "I lost my spider somewhere in here and I don't want you to accidentally stand on him. Can you see him? He's quite big, but his black fur helps him to hide in the shadows under the seats."

Bronwyn looked horrified and glanced at her feet. She backed out hurriedly, but gave a warning glare to Sirius and Peter. "I'll be just outside the door," she said, before closing it with a little more force than was necessary.

"A spider?" Peter asked Remus skeptically, as the werewolf cast a quick silencing charm on the room.

"You should have heard her scream when there was one on her book in the library once," Remus said. "My head was ringing for a week, I swear."

" _Girlfriend?_ " Sirius demanded, staring at James who looked sheepish.

"It's my new plan to get Evans," James explained.

"Your new plan to get Evans is to go out with a completely different girl?"

"No. It's to make her jealous," James said.

"Jealous. Right."

"Kemp wanted to go out with me, so I thought 'why not?'" James sent Sirius a pleading look. "You must get one too. You know practically every girl in the school fancies you."

" _Me?_ " Sirius stared at him in disbelief. "You want  _me_ to make Evans jealous as well?"

"Well, no," James said. "But I don't want to be the only person going out with someone. And you know Moony won't because of his furry little problem, and Pete would dissolve into a puddle of goo before he plucked up the courage to ask anyone."

"You shouldn't go out with a girl just to make another girl jealous," Remus said.

"Of course I should," James answered airily. "Everyone does it."

"They don't."

"They do. I'm not going to dump her, so live with it."

Remus looked like he wanted to say more, but instead turned his head away and looked out of the window. Sirius wondered why he didn't continue the argument when he obviously felt very strongly about the subject. Then, when he thought about it, Sirius realised that Remus nearly always backed down rather than anger his friends.

"I'm not going to go out with some girl just because you want me to," Sirius said.

"That's not the only reason!" James protested. "You're going to be sixteen on your next birthday. Don't you think it's about time you went out with one? Or are you too scared to ask the real thing? Would you rather stick to your posters?"

"The posters are just to make my mother mad," Sirius snapped. "And my birthday is ages from now. Remus and Pete haven't even turned fifteen yet."

"Fine, don't if you're too scared. And they'll be fifteen in a month or two."

"I'm  _not_ scared!"

"Huh. Sounds like you are."

"Well, who am I supposed to ask?"

James looked at him in bemusement. "I dunno. Who do you fancy?"

Sirius floundered, his mind skittering over the many girls in their year and the years above and below. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it."

"Are you serious? Who do you think about when you… you know?"

Sirius felt himself blushing scarlet. "James!"

"Well who? Don't tell me you don't even wank."

"Of course I do," Sirius said defensively. "I just don't think of anyone in particular - just vague impressions. We all know who  _you_ think about."

"So what?" James said, unabashed. "Everyone does it. Even Remus."

"Hey!" Remus said, looking insulted. "What do you mean 'even Remus'? I'll have you know I think about sex just as much as any other boy."

"Do you?" James asked, a grin alighting on his face. "Who do you think about?"

"No one," Remus said. "Like Sirius. Just impressions."

"Bloody hell!" James shook his head. "You guys have to develop your fantasy life a bit. You're so brainy, Moony. You should have a three part epic on the go by now."

"Do we have to talk about this?" Peter asked. Sirius glanced over to the chubby Marauder and was amused to see that his face was almost puce with embarrassment.

"Who do you think about, Pete?" he asked slyly.

"None of your business! You'd tease me if I told you."

"So you  _do_ think about someone," James said, looking pointedly at Sirius and Remus. "See, even Pete has more interesting fantasies than you two."

"Fine!" Sirius said, throwing himself back against the seat and crossing his arms. "I'll ask out a girl if you drop this."

"Fine," James said, looking satisfied. "Who?"

"Rebecca. That friend of Evans's"

"Why?"

"Because she's pretty and I know she fancies me."

James shrugged. "As good a reason as any."

Remus made an odd noise at the back of his throat. It sounded a little like a strangled growl. Sirius glanced at him, but Remus turned away and looked out of the window again. Although he had not said a word, Sirius felt shame coiling in his stomach like a restless snake, and it was followed by an irrational burst of anger towards the werewolf that made him more determined that ever to ask Rebecca out and prove to Remus that he didn't have power over Sirius's emotions.

He ignored the slightly nauseous feeling that rolled in his belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to check out the link below for an amazing scene reenactment by the Mischief Managers! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrLO0di78s0&index=5&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE


	38. It's Full Moon, You'd Best Let Me Go

_"If music be the food of love, play on,_  
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,  
The appetite may sicken, and so die."  
(William Shakespeare -Twelfth Night)

**REMUS:**

True to his word, Sirius asked Rebecca out almost as soon as the start of term feast ended. Remus had gone on ahead to the common room, so he never actually saw Sirius do it, but it was pretty obvious when Sirius returned with Rebecca in tow and the two of them squashed together on the sofa near the fire, which was usually reserved for the Marauders alone.

As Remus watched from the floor of a dark corner with Hamish in his lap, Rebecca laughed, flinging back her head so her dark curls moved in a way she obviously thought was seductive. He thought that it looked more like she was having some sort of chronic neck spasm.

She then proceeded to plant herself right  _in_  Sirius's lap and snuggle against him like a possessive cat, shooting sidelong glances at the other girls in the room – many of whom were watching the scene with envy.

Remus felt Moony stir and rise in him and his breath hitched in surprise. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he really  _that_ angry about the way that Sirius was using this girl? And why hadn't he been this angry with James, who was using Bronwyn in a way that was even worse?

"It's disgusting!"

Remus jumped as the distinctly feminine voice spoke his own thoughts aloud. He looked up to see Lily, who crouched down beside him, glaring in a different direction to where he was looking, and followed her gaze. Looking very out of place in her Ravenclaw colours, Bronwyn was curled up with James on another sofa, whispering in his ear. Remus wondered how James had sneaked her in. He couldn't remember ever having seen someone from another house in their common room before. It was amazing the lengths James would go to make Lily jealous.

Bronwyn giggled at something James said and snuggled up closer to him while the messy-haired boy put an arm around her waist. Remus wondered why teenagers always turned into romantic clichés when they wanted to show off their relationships to the outside world.

"This had better not be some stupid plan you boys have cooked up for fun," Lily said savagely, turning to glare at Remus. "Those are real girls with real feelings. You can't do that to people!"

"Don't look at me," he snapped back, more sharply than he had intended because Moony was still peering out of his eyes and growling in his mind. "Does it look like  _I_ have a pretty girl sitting in my lap and clinging on to my every word? I have a  _hedgehog_  in my lap and an  _annoying_  girl squatting beside me, rudely accusing me of doing something that I don't even want to be happening in the first place. We're the  _Marauders!_ They shouldn't…they shouldn't…argh!" he couldn't think of a way to finish his sentence, so he settled for sending a poisonous glance at Lily before going back to glowering at Sirius.

"Good heavens, Remus." Lily looked taken aback. "I just  _asked_."

"No, you  _accused!_  Now leave me alone!"

She stared at him. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"I said  _leave me alone_!"

Lily followed his gaze towards Sirius, looked back at Remus. Then she looked at Sirius once more. Her mouth opened, then closed.

"What?" Remus snapped.

Her mouth opened again and stayed like that as she glanced towards a group of girls who were sending envious looks at Rebecca and Sirius, then back to Remus again.

"Oh my God," she murmured, and rocked back on her haunches so her behind fell with a thump to the floor beside Remus. "Oh my God, Remus."

" _What?_ " He turned his full attention to her and scowled. "I thought I told you to leave."

"Oh you poor thing. You poor, poor thing. And after everything else you've been through with your father and being ill, as well."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Do they know?" Lily whispered. "Your friends I mean."

"What?" Suddenly Remus forgot everything else as he took in her expression of shocked and slightly disturbed pity. He had only seen that expression a few times before – whenever someone found out about his lycanthropy. He felt every muscle in his body tense and begin shaking. Hamish shifted in his lap and sent a concerned glance upwards to Remus's face. "Oh no… p-p-please… How did you g-g-guess? Please don't tell anyone!"

"So it's true?" she whispered. "I thought – but then – Remus, it's really frowned on in Wizarding society. I mean it's frowned on in Muggle society, but in Wizarding society it's even worse and things could get really nasty for you if people found out."

"Y-y-you won't tell anyone?"

Lily placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Of course I wouldn't. You can't help who you are."

"Th-thank you!" Remus felt as though his muscles were dissolving and sagged against the wall with his eyes closed. "You don't know – hang on!" He sat up again and stared at her. "Muggles know about us?"

"Of course!" she looked affronted. "Muggles are humans too, you know. There are just as many gay people among them as among wizards I reckon."

Remus froze, his mouth half open. His mind went completely blank for a few seconds before he managed to choke out, " _what_ did you say?"

"I  _said,_ " Lily repeated, a little impatiently, "that there are just as many g –"

"No, stop, stop! I heard you the first time! Merlin, girl, don't repeat it!"

"You  _asked_ me to!"

Remus put his face in his hands. He didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or cry. "Heavens, Lily, you got it all wrong. I thought you were talking about something else. What in Merlin's name made you think…oh." He glanced up at Sirius, then back at Lily. "That wasn't it. I wasn't angry because I'm…because I…because of  _that._ It's not like  _that_ between us!" His heart was hammering against his ribcage as he struggled to make her understand. "Not  _that_!"

"Oh  _really_?" she said sceptically. "I've never seen such a rejected-puppy look on anyone's face in my entire life. If you're not in love with him, you have to be in love with Rebecca and I've never seen you look twice at her before."

"I  _wasn't_!" Remus said desperately. "You've got it all wrong!"

"No, I haven't. You're just in denial. It all makes sense now – the way you look at him and talk about him. I remember the way you held him up with two dislocated arms that day in the corridor to stop him falling, without a single complaint."

"N… no…"

"Yes! And on the Quidditch pitch? You were so focused on Black you never even saw Potter score. I was sitting right behind you, and Pettigrew almost knocked me off my seat he was elbowing you so hard."

"Evans, stop!"

"'Evans now, is it?" she looked triumphant. "I hit a nerve, didn't I?"

"S-stop!" Remus felt desperate tears well up in his eyes. He felt like she was tearing him open and making everything he had felt was so special seem tainted and wrong.

Lily's green eyes met his own and suddenly filled with remorse. "Oh Remus! Remus, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I'm sorry. Please, I really am. I shouldn't have said all that. I'm sorry."

"Just l-leave me alone," Remus whispered.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, trying to put an arm around him, which he shrugged off. "I just…" she stopped and he felt her stiffen. "You thought I meant something else," she murmured. "Before – when I promised not to tell. You thought I meant something else." She leant back and studied his horror-stricken face. "How many secrets do you have, Remus Lupin? How many secrets are you keeping? At least one other big one, hm? One that could get you ostracised or even killed by Wizarding society. And it's about who you are as well, isn't it? Something you are. What is it?"

Remus felt sick to his very bones. He scrambled to his feet, clutching Hamish to his chest. Lily followed and tried to hold him back with her hand on his arm. "I'm gay," Remus whispered to her desperately. It was the lesser of two evils. He wouldn't be killed for it. "You were right. I'm g-gay, and I didn't want you to know. There's nothing else. No other secrets. I like blokes. That's all."

"Liar!" she whispered back, holding onto his arm. "It's worse than being gay? You're so frightened I'll find out, you'll even admit to  _that_ to put me off?"

A frightened sob jerked its way out of his lungs and Lily dropped his arm immediately. "You can tell me. I'm your friend."

Remus turned and sprinted towards the boys' dorms, up the stairs and into the Marauders' room. He dropped Hamish on his pillow and flung himself down next to the hedgehog, burying his face.

Only a few minutes passed before his sensitive ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. His nose was still pressed against his bed so he couldn't smell who it was until a gentle hand was pressed against his back. "Moony?"

Sirius. Everything else that Lily had said that evening flooded back in a tidal wave of emotion. "Get away from me!" he screamed, his voice muffled.  _A freak,_ he thought, _a freak. Please, Merlin and all the gods, let me not be even more of a freak that I already am…_

Sirius jerked his hand away. "Remus, I'm  _sorry_. I'm sorry you're upset! What did I do?"

 _Nothing! You're wonderful and perfect and, GOD DAMN HER, she was right. I would do anything in the world for you. Twisted freak._  Out loud he only screamed, "Get away from me!" again.

After a long moment, he heard Sirius get up and leave. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. Right now, he wished more than anything he could just give up. Throw in the towel and yell to whoever it was up there that controlled fate, " _I give up! I give up, damn you! Just leave me and be done with it._ "

Hamish crept over and nuzzled Remus's cheek with his little black nose. A tear escaped from under his closed eyelid and tricked down his cheek.

"Remus?"

He turned his face towards the door without opening his eyes. "Just leave me alone, J-James."

"I go to all the effort of going out with a random girl to get Evans's attention and you're the one who has to fight her off," James said, obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Remus rolled onto his side so his back faced the door. He reached out to stroke Hamish's head.

"Sirius is upset. He doesn't know what he did to make you mad at him."

"I'm not mad at him," Remus said hoarsely.

"No?" James came closer and Remus felt his bed dip as he sat on it. "It sounds like you are."

"Moony's tetchy. I'm mad at everyone."

"Why's Moony tetchy? It's ages until full moon."

"Bugger off and snuggle with your girl, James. Leave me alone."

"Is it the girls? Is Moony seeing them as a threat to our pack? 'Cos he doesn't have to. We'll always be the Marauders. No girls are going to change that. Blimey, Moony. I've never seen you this mad at  _anyone_. Was it something Evans said?"

Remus let out a frustrated growl that definitely sounded more like Moony than himself and glowered over his shoulder at James. "I think she's figuring out my secret. There. Happy now?"

"What?" James asked faintly. "Which one?"

"Which one do you think? How many bloody secrets do you think I'm keeping?"

"With you, Moony, I don't think anyone but you knows. You're a master at keeping secrets."

"Some master!" Remus said bitterly. "Every time I turn around there's a new person with that expression on their face. 'Oh, poor Remus! Your father beats you,' 'oh poor Remus, your mother was torn to shreds in front of your eyes', 'oh poor Remus, you're a werewolf,' 'oh poor Remus, poor Remus,  _poor_   _bloody_  Remus.  _Why_  do you have so many secrets, Remus? Don't you  _want_ our pity?' 'We  _pity_ you for being a freak.'"

He curled around his pillow, hate, hurt, anger, and frustration welling up inside him. "And do you know what the worst thing is?" he demanded, clenching his hands into fists and pressing them against the pillow at his chest. "I  _do_ want it. I  _do_ want their pity because it's so much better than their hate, or their fear, or their f-f-fists beating and beating, and s-s-silver whips, and spoons, and pokers…"

He curled up tighter, barely aware of James's shocked presence anymore. "And I  _want_ their pity because it's almost like caring, but sometimes it's not enough. And sometimes I just want someone to stand up for me and say 'That's enough for Remus. He's enough of a freak now. Leave him alone. He doesn't want hate, or hurt, or beating, or even pity anymore, because he's tired now. Now he just w-w-wants to s-s-sleep." Remus let out a shuddering breath and finally fell silent.

"If I could do that, I would," James whispered. "If I could stand up there and say that for you, I would. I  _do_ care. I  _do._ And so does Sirius and so does Peter. And everyone else can go to hell if they want to pity you. You don't deserve pity. You deserve admiration, and humour, and friendship, and - and – and love, and I am  _completely_ the wrong person to be telling you all of this and I wish Sirius would stop skulking in the doorway, eavesdropping, and help me out – but it's all true Moony."

Remus raised his head a little and tilted it towards the doorway. Sure enough, Sirius was there, sitting hunched against the frame with his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands clenched in his hair. The expression of distress on his face was so acute that the pain it caused in Remus's chest was violent and physical.

Closing his eyes again, Remus tried to push away the rush of self-hatred that rose in his chest for causing that look on Sirius's normally buoyant and cheerful face. "You're right," he said eventually, struggling to keep his voice level. "Of course you're r-right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I didn't mean them. Lily wound me up so tight I just had a go at the first person I saw. I didn't mean any of it. Don't worry." He was quite proud of how calm and pleasant his voice sounded, but when he glanced up he saw that James's and Sirius's expressions were anything but reassured.

"You can't keep doing that, you know," Sirius said from the doorway.

"Doing what?"

"Bottling everything up like that. You meant every word of what you said. You  _do_ just want to give up right now, don't you? I don't know what Evans said to you, but it sent you over the edge." Sirius didn't look up from his knees as he spoke.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm fine now. And I really am glad to have you three. I know you care about me. We're the Marauders."

James wordlessly reached out and picked up one of Remus's hands. Remus watched with almost detached resignation as his friend used both his hands and all his strength to prise open Remus's fingers, which had locked themselves into a fist. When his hand opened, the little red crescents caused by his nails were so deep that blood welled from them. There was a long moment as all three boys stared at the little wounds.

Then Sirius pushed himself to his feet and went to Remus's trunk. He opened it and pulled out a healing ointment. Neither he nor James said a word as he took Remus's hand from James's and began smoothing the potion onto his palm. Remus felt his heart quicken as Sirius's Quidditch-roughened hand held his own so gently. He wondered at how completely blind he had been not to realise how he felt before. Sirius's scent was so warm and close to him now that he felt slightly drunk on it. He knew he should pull away. He was taking advantage of Sirius in the same way that Sirius himself had taken advantage of Rebecca, but right now he just didn't have the will power.

This. This was perfect. This stolen moment that he viewed in such a different way to Sirius. As Sirius lifted his other hand and gently prised open each finger, Remus's mind screamed, his heart sang, and his soul wept. His face, on the other hand, was as placid as the full moon.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus was  _good_ at acting. Sometimes he was holding up so many false personas at once, for so many different people, that he forgot who he was really supposed to be. At times like these he wondered if the person he was,  _was_ made up of all those personas - And if someone managed to break through them, perhaps all they would discover underneath would be an empty, suffocated shell of the real person he might have been.

But the skill did come in useful over the next couple of weeks as he was forced to watch Sirius and Rebecca at every opportunity – stealing kisses, holding hands, and cuddling. Sometimes, Sirius would come back to the dorm, his mouth swollen and pink and his voice filled with pride as be boasted to his friends about his latest snogging session.

Somehow, Sirius had managed to sweet-talk Professor McGonagall into letting him take Muggle Studies this late in the year, but instead of making the lesson better for Remus, it turned into a twice-weekly torture. The seat beside Remus had already been taken, so Sirius sat in front of him instead, beside Rebecca. Remus couldn't count the number of quills he had accidentally crushed as he eyes were drawn to the game of footsie between Sirius and Rebecca under the table, or to Rebecca's hand on Sirius's thigh.

Sometimes Sirius would turn around to send him a grin and a wink; "Alright Moony?"

Of course, Remus would always smile his placid, dependable, book-worm smile and counter with "Concentrate, you idiot. You have six months to catch up on," while his mind stored up the wink for future perusal and his stomach churned with guilt.

He knew that his happy mask was a little too brittle to be completely believable because James, Sirius, and Peter often sent him worried or bemused glances, and more than once, he had caught the three of them huddled together whispering, stopping guiltily as he approached.

He also knew that he would pay for his turmoil of emotions when Moony had the reins to their body. He didn't think he had ever felt this heart-sore or disorientated before. After his mother' death, he had been too young, and after his father was thrown into prison, positive emotions of relief and hope had checked the worst of his guilt and stress.

No, this was the worst he could ever remember feeling emotionally, and the fact that he didn't dare to share it with anyone else only served to bottle up and distill his feelings of helpless panic, self-loathing, and longing. He hated hiding this much from his friends, but he knew he would not survive if they turned on him when they found out about his newest secret. His newest abnormality.

On the evening before the full moon, as he sat hunched under a table in the library trying to complete his homework, Remus wondered, in all seriousness, if he would even survive the coming transformation. What scared him even more was that some deep part of himself – perhaps that lost part that was just  _him_ , hoped that he wouldn't. He was just so tired of coping all the time. It seemed like such an easy option to just...let go.

He stiffened as he sensed Sirius's approach. He could smell Rebecca's scent mixed strongly with his friend's so he knew Sirius had just left her. He curled further into the shadows as Sirius stopped at his table. He was too tired and weak with the approaching moon to face acting for his friend.

Sirius didn't seem to see him because he pulled out the chair Remus had placed in front of the table to conceal himself and sat on it without peering under the table. His long legs stretched out beside Remus and he crossed his booted feet at the ankles. He then leant forward, blocking out Remus's light and appeared to be resting his head and arms on the table in front of him.

Remus sat in dead silence, huddled to one side and trying not to look at Sirius's muscular thighs. He almost choked in surprise when Sirius suddenly spoke.

"Are you ignoring me, Moony?"

Remus found that he couldn't answer. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them. His body was preparing for the transformation and he knew he was running a high temperature even as his head pounded with pain and his muscles cramped.

"I know you're there. I saw the shadows shifting when I came in."

"I do talk to you," Remus mumbled against his knees.

"Only when you have to. Otherwise you avoid me. Especially when I'm with Rebecca. James was right, wasn't he? The girls are upsetting Moony. He feels like his pack is threatened. That's why you're not yourself."

It was a good a reason as any, but Remus couldn't bring himself to actively aid in the lie, so he remained silent.

"Am I right?"

Remus sighed and shifted, wishing he didn't feel so hot and nauseous. Sirius was quiet for a long time; waiting for an answer. Eventually, he let out a little huff of air and there was a light thump as his forehead connected with the table.

"Do you want me to dump her? I'll do it if you ask me to."

Remus felt his breath catch in his throat. It would be so easy to say yes. But then what? Sirius would get another girl. Would he keep dumping them for the sake of his ragged werewolf friend? And even if he did, could Remus bring himself to ask the boy, who meant everything to him, to deprive himself of that pleasure for the sake of a one-sided love that could never be reciprocated?

"No," he whispered. "Don't do that. You like her."

Sirius gave a non-committal hum and drummed his fingers against the table. "She's not a Marauder," he answered. "Marauders always come first. There's a lot of other girls out there who are just as pretty. Though I guess that wouldn't matter to Moony."

 _No,_ Remus thought,  _it wouldn't. As long as they were with you, it wouldn't matter who they were._

"She's fine," Remus lied. "I like her. And she makes you happy. I want you to be happy. I want my whole pack to be happy."

"That was a pretty speech, Moony," Sirius said wryly. "I don't believe a word of it."

Remus reached out and gathered his homework things together, stuffing them into his bag, wondering, as he did, why he had bothered to complete so much of it. He froze when Sirius uncrossed his ankles and nudged him gently with the toe of his boot. "You still awake down there?"

"Would you look after Hamish for me?" Remus asked, picking up the dozing hedgehog out of his nest of screwed-up parchment and stroking his little head fondly.

"You know we always do on full moon nights," Sirius said.

Remus reached up and placed Hamish in Sirius's lap, his heart leaping as his fingers brushed Sirius's thigh.

"No," he said softly. "I mean if anything ever happened to me." He glanced at Hamish whose red and gold spines glinted in the soft light of the library. "I just want to know that you wouldn't give him away or anything."

"Remus, what's going on?" Sirius's voice was laced with panic. "Is something going to happen tonight?"

"Just my transformation. You know that. I just wanted to check." He almost wished he hadn't said anything, but he'd felt he had to – for Hamish.

Suddenly, Sirius's hands appeared and lifted Hamish off his lap and onto the table. They reappeared again, and before Remus had a chance to react, they had made a blind grab for him and pulled him out from under the table by his upper arms. Remus struggled violently. There was a reason he had hidden himself away in the library this evening, and he couldn't let Sirius see his face.

He was weak, though, and wasn't able to prevent Sirius from locking his upper body between his knees to keep him from escaping and roughly lifting his chin to the light. Even though the situation was desperate, Remus couldn't prevent his body from reacting to their position. It was as if now that he had acknowledged his feelings for Sirius, they had grown even more potent. He wondered if his blush showed around the fever-flush already on his cheeks.

"Merlin and Mordred, Remus!" Sirius swore. "What the  _hell_ is going on? Your face – how long have you been this ill?"

"It's just the transformation…" Remus started.

"Transformation, my arse! Tell me the truth!" He gave Remus's head a little shake for emphasis and Remus closed his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him. "Oh God, I'm sorry." Sirius pressed his palm to Remus's forehead. "You're so hot."

"Thank you," Remus said, completely unable to help himself.

In spite of himself, Sirius's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Idiot. This is serious."

"And this is Remus," Remus said. "And Remus would be very grateful if Sirius would release him so he can go off and become a slavering monster for the night."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

Remus suddenly thought that if he  _did_ die this night, Sirius would always blame himself. He knew he would, because for some reason he'd got it into his stupid head that Remus was angry with him. With great resignation, Remus realised that he would have to say something; to explain at least a little. "Fine." He murmured. "Okay, fine." What could he tell Sirius? He didn't really want to lie to his friend. "It's... It's not your fault. It's something else. A new secret of mine." He smiled up at Sirius and he hoped it didn't look as bitter as it felt. "You know me and secrets. I  _never_  tell. Even if it kills me. But you can know it was nothing you've done. It's not your fault at all. Or James's, or Peter's, or even Lily's, before you ask."

"Damn it, Remus!" Sirius snapped. "This isn't a bloody game! You could  _die_ tonight if you're this ill."

"I might," Remus agreed softly. "Which means you won't have time to work out my secret." He sighed. "I never tell, but people always work me out anyway. Sometimes they're just too big to keep. They leak out around the edges."

"Tell me!"

"It's almost moonrise. You'd best let me go."

"Never! Don't you remember Moony? You said it to me once. I got you. I won't let go."

"We were hanging off the edge of a stone wall," Remus said, wishing that Sirius meant those words in a different way – the way Remus had unconsciously meant them even as he had voiced them all those months ago. He wondered how it was that Muggle songs seemed to dictate his life as much as they had his mother's. "You weren't threatening to tear me to shreds and eat me. Let  _go_ , Sirius!"

"Tell me, Moony! Please?"

It was that last broken plea that broke through Remus's meager defences.  _A hint,_ he thought.  _He'll never make the connection, and I would have said it in a roundabout way. I would have told him that I love him. And I do. I know that right now. I love him._

"Sirius." He broke off from his struggles for a moment. "You don't know how much it means to me – everything you've done for me. No matter what, you're always there for me. When I'm sad, you act like a clown to cheer me up. When I'm scared, you're always around to help me fight my demons." Would Sirius ever make the connection? Remus truly didn't know, but it was too late to go back now. "I'll try not to die tonight, I promise. I mean, come on – I've looked worse."

"Not before the moon," Sirius said, his hands tightening on Remus's arms. "Moony's going to rip you to shreds."

Remus looked up into those concerned grey eyes and felt a sudden, desperate desire to press his mouth to Sirius's and kiss away the fear on his face. It was only his horror of how Sirius might react that prevented him from leaning those few crucial inches.

"Let me go, Sirius. I really have to leave now."

Reluctantly, Sirius unclenched his knees so Remus's arms were no longer pinned to his sides and released him.

"You'll look after Hamish?"

"You know I will."


	39. Outranked by a Hedgehog

_"Every worthwhile accomplishment, big or little,_

_has its stages of drudgery and triumph;_

_a beginning, a struggle and a victory."_

_(Ghandi)_

SIRIUS:

" _JAMES!_ " Sirius bellowed, as he tumbled through the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room. " _JAMES POTTER, I'M LOOKING FOR YOU!_ "

"Sirius? What's wrong?"

He swung round to see Rebecca. Her mouth was open in shock and she reached out for him. He shrugged her off impatiently. "Leave off, I don't have time right now. I'm looking for  _JAMES!_ "

She winced as he yelled the last word. "I know.  _Everyone_ knows by now. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's Remus. He's ill."

She rolled her eyes. "He's always ill. Come on, I'll make you feel better." She snaked an arm around his waist.

Sirius shook her off roughly. "Don't you get it, you stupid bint! He's  _ill!_ "

She froze. " _What_ did you call me?"

Sirius closed his eyes. He really didn't have time for this. "I'm  _sorry_ , okay? I didn't mean that. I'm just worried. Remus is ill and I have to find James and Pete."

She straightened and her anger visibly flared. "Why is it always about  _them_?" she demanded. "That's all you ever talk about. Remus this, James that, Pete this… Don't you ever think about anything else?" She assumed a theatrical posture. "I'm sorry, Rebecca. I have to go to Quidditch practice with James! I'm sorry, Rebecca - I have to help Pete with his Potions homework. I'm sorry, Rebecca - I haven't seen Remus for a while, I must go check that he's not studying too hard!" Her imitation of him was cruelly accurate.

Sirius stared at her, white-faced. He thought he spent more than enough time with her. He had to force himself not to rush off to find his friends more often. She expected more from him?

"Rebecca, please! Remus is –"

" _Argh!_ " She flipped her curls away from her face as she glared at him. "I  _know!_  He's the worst of the lot. 'Where's Remus, Rebecca? Have you seen him? Remus is ill, Rebecca, I have to go and check on him. I'm looking after Hamish for Remus, I have to return him. Do you think Remus will like this, Rebecca?'"

Sirius backed away from her until he was pressed against a wall. His mouth worked as he tried to think of a way to explain himself. "They're my friends," he mumbled eventually. "You have to watch out for your friends."

"And what am I? Or does 'girlfriend' feature so low on your list of priorities that even a  _hedgehog_  outranks me?" She pointed viciously to Hamish, who Sirius had clutched to his chest.

Sirius was near to tears now. His fear for Remus, combined with confusion and hurt at Rebecca's attack on him in the crowded common room, had broken down most of his defences.

"Sirius, mate, what's going on?"

He looked up to see James and Peter scrambling down the stairs from the dorm. They made their way through the now-silent common room to where Sirius and Rebecca were standing.

"We could hear you all the way from up there," Peter added.

"Moony," was all he managed to say, but it was enough. James and Peter took one look at his face and each grabbed one of his arms. They dragged him past Rebecca, who was spluttering indignantly, and up the stairs to the dorm.

"What's wrong? Did you find him? What happened?" Peter took Hamish from Sirius in an effort to prevent him from crushing the little animal in his feverishly protective embrace.

"I promised to look after him!" Sirius protested.

"You were squashing him, mate."

"I think Moony's going to kill Remus tonight," Sirius flung himself down on his bed and pressed his palms to his eyes. "You should have seen him. He looked really, really bad. He said he had a new secret and that was what's been upsetting him all this time. He wouldn't tell me what it was."

"Remus never tells his secrets," James said tiredly.

"That's what he said as well," Sirius felt as though all his energy had been drained from him. "I'm going down as soon as the moon sets. If he's bleeding badly we have to stop it straight away and get him to the Hospital Wing."

"We'll come too," James said. "As soon as the moon sets." He paused, a pensive expression settling on his face. "I wonder what his secret is? Maybe if we knew, we could help. Hey, I bet Evans knows! He's been flaky ever since his chat with her. And he's been avoiding her even more than us."

"Go ask her," Sirius begged James.

"You know she never talks to me except to hex me," James protested.

"Please just try. She doesn't talk to me at all – especially since I started going out with Rebecca. Like she was even worth all the effort."

James raised his eyebrows. "Wasn't the snogging worth it?"

Sirius grunted and James sighed. "Fine," he said, shoving his glasses up his nose and standing. "I'll go and talk to her." He stalked out the room.

Sirius lay on his back and stared up at the canopy of his bed. The snogging hadn't been worth it. After all the build-up, speculation, and excitement, the experience itself had been a let down. Although he boasted to his friends about it, he was still confused as to what all the fuss was about.

James appeared to take to snogging like a fish to water, but Sirius found it to be wet, slippery, and a little uncomfortable. He was never entirely sure what to do with his hands, or whether he was hurting some delicate part of Rebecca's unfamiliar anatomy as he lay against her. She often ate spicy things for dinner and when she slipped her tongue in his mouth, Sirius sometimes felt almost nauseous at the taste of second-hand food.

He didn't dare tell either Rebecca, or any of his friends, how he felt. He was sure he was some freak of nature who didn't have the correct senses in his mouth or something. What would they think if he told them? The great, handsome, most eligible guy in school didn't enjoy snogging… he shuddered at the thought of  _that_  ever reaching the Slytherins or his family.

That was part of the reason why he always made excuses to escape Rebecca. She always wanted to be snuggling and kissing. Why couldn't she like pranks or Quidditch or something? Then they would at least have something to talk about. To tell the truth, he had almost been hoping that Remus  _would_ ask him to dump her. That, at least, would have given him a good reason for doing so.

The thought of his friend brought his even more pressing worries to the forefront of his mind again. He felt sick at the thought of what they might find tomorrow. He decided to stop by the hospital wing on the way to the shack. Madame Pomfrey needed to see Remus as soon as possible.

"I hate to think of him being alone out there," Peter said, from where he was sitting on his own bed feeding Hamish.

"Me too," Sirius said. "Let's finish the translating for the first bit of the animagus transformation tonight. I'll never sleep anyway and we only have a little bit left to go. Then we'll be able to make the potion and start meditating to discover what animals we're going to be. If we had done it all by now, we could be out there with him."

Peter shook his head. "It's physically impossible to do it that quickly, Sirius. You know that. McGonagall said it would take a fully-trained wizards years to do it. We've just got to go as quickly as we can."

They both looked up as the door opened. James slunk in with his hands over his ears. Sirius sighed. "Let's see the damage, then."

James removed his hands to reveal that his ears had not only tripled in size, but also turned bright orange. The only thing that kept Sirius from laughing was his worry for Remus.

"Bloody hell, James. What did you say to her?" he asked, getting out his charm book and his wand to look up the counter-curse. "Honestly, if that girl was a Marauder, we'd be sorted. Her inventiveness never ceases to amaze me. Has she ever even repeated a hex?"

James scowled. "Just fix it, you git. This is your fault."

"So?" Sirius waved his wand and muttered a counter-curse. James's ears shrunk, but remained orange. "What did she say?"

"She wouldn't even talk to me properly," James said, rubbing his ears as Sirius tried another spell that turned the colour a little less day-glow orange, but didn't eliminate it. "I told her that Remus is very ill again, and that she had to tell me his secret so we could help him. And she said, 'what secret?' and I said, 'the one you found out that time he stormed out on you,' and she said, 'how the hell is that going to help him?' and I said, 'that's probably what's making him ill,' and then she laughed her head off and said, 'well, that would be a cliché. Where is he ill?' so I said, 'none of your business, just tell me his secret' and she said she had no right to tell other people's secrets, especially Remus's, and she had promised not to tell anyway and that I had better go before she hexed me, and I said 'not until you tell me the secret,' and then she hexed me." James's face took on a dreamy expression. "She really is beautiful when she's angry."

"Oh, well, bravo for your use of Marauder sneakiness on that one," Sirius said. "You really sweet-talked it out of her." He cast the next spell rather more violently than was strictly necessary, causing the messy-haired boy to squeak and clutch his ears. "Did you sleep through  _all_ Moony's how-to-be-sneaky lessons?" He shook his head. "Whipped. You're completely whipped."

James gingerly touched his now-restored-but-painful ears. "How can you be sneaky when you're having a conversation with someone? Sneaky is for pranking."

" _How_ did you ever get a girl?"

"I told you," James said smugly. "Kemp practically threw herself at me. Good thing too, 'cause she snogs like a demon."

Sirius made a face. "You've been going out for two weeks. Don't you think it's about time you called her by her first name?"

"Why?" James asked. "She answers to her surname."

"It's more romantic."

"I'm not in love with the girl," James said dismissively. "I'm in love with Evans. Kemp is merely part of my plot to make her jealous. The snogging is a perk."

"Well, maybe you should call Evans by her first name."

"What  _is_  it with you and first names?"

"Lads," Peter interrupted, "I thought we were going to finish translating the meditation bit for the animagus thing tonight. Shouldn't we get started? It's already late."

Sirius immediately went to his trunk and pulled out both Gertie Trebbletome's _Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How Do It_ , and their own 'Marauder Translation' notebook. "Lets get started," he said. "I want to be done by the time the moon sets."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Madame Pomfrey was not amused at being dragged out of her bed before the sun had even risen. She opened the door to her rooms, which flanked the main ward of the hospital wing, and scowled at the three, slightly bedraggled looking boys, on her doorstep.

" _What_ do you want at this horrible hour of the night?" she demanded.

"It's the morning," Sirius told her. "The moon just set. You must come with us to get Remus."

She blinked at him in confusion. "Why? I always get him just after sunrise. He'll be fine for a while longer. He's usually sleeping."

Sirius shook his head impatiently. "He's been really upset about something recently," he told her. "I mean  _really_ upset. He wouldn't tell us what it was, but I do know that he was afraid he might not survive this moon."

Madame Pomfrey froze for a few seconds. "The little devil," she whispered. "I should have  _guessed_ something was wrong when he just knocked on my door and told me he was fine to go out on his own and I didn't need to come with him. Did he look bad?"

"Do you think we would be here if he didn't?" James asked.

She began moving then, grabbing a bag from the hook on her door and opening the cupboard to retrieve bandages and potions. "You boys stay here. I don't need you interfering with any delicate procedures I might have to make."

"No way!" Sirius protested, following her to the door.

"He might be  _dead_ , Mr. Black," she snapped. "Do you think you could stand to see that? If you did  _anything_ to disturb him, it could cost him his life."

Sirius took a little step back, a vision of Remus's lifeless body lying in torn ribbons on the floor of the shack, rising in his mind.

"We'll wait," Peter whispered for all of them.

Madame Pomfrey didn't answer. She swung her bag over her shoulder and sprinted down the corridor.

What followed was the longest half hour of Sirius's life. When he at last heard footsteps coming down the corridor, he leapt to his feet and ran out to see Madame Pomfrey walking carefully towards him, her wand out, and Remus's still form floating in front of her.

"Is he?" Sirius whispered to her.

"He's alive," she said distantly. "Please step aside, Mr. Black."

He stood back with Peter and James and watched as she floated Remus's body into his own private room at the back of the main ward. She didn't emerge again for a long time, but Sirius knew she had contacted the Anders by floo, because all three remaining Marauders jumped violently when the fireplace of the main ward flared behind them and Neil and Angela stepped out.

"Is he okay?" Angela demanded, as soon as she saw them. "Tell me!"

"We don't know," James told her. "She's been in there ages."

"You boys look terrible," Neil said. Sirius looked away from Remus's door to find himself being studied by the two adults. "How long have you been here?"

"Since the moon set," James answered again. Sirius couldn't bring himself to say anything.

Eventually, the door opened and Madame Pomfrey beckoned to Neil and Angela. "You can come and see him. He's stable for now."

"What about us?" Peter asked.

"Maybe later." She shut the door behind them and Sirius threw himself back on a bed in frustration.

"He's  _our_ pack-mate, not  _theirs_!"

"He's their son," James pointed out.

"He hasn't been for long. We're more his family than they are!"

It seemed like hours before the door opened again and Madame Pomfrey peered out. "He's asking for you," she said curtly. "Be quiet and good. If any of you do so much as  _speaks_ above a whisper, I swear to Merlin I will throw you out."

The boys nodded and followed her into the room on tiptoe. The air in the little room was hot, and thick with the harsh scent of many potions. Neil and Angela looked up as they entered, then wordlessly stood up and moved away from the chairs beside the bed.

Sirius approached fearfully, dreading what he would see. When he at last caught sight of Remus's face he almost cried out. The boy looked corpse-like in the dawn light coming from the window. His eyes and cheeks were sunken and his pale skin was waxy. His eyes were closed and his breath came from his mouth in shallow, laboured pants; like an injured animal.

"He punctured a lung," Madame Pomfrey told them quietly. "And scratched himself nearly to pieces. The only time I've seen him worse than this was when we picked him up from his father's that Christmas in second year. Professor Slughorn and I have been working on a potion to reduce scarring. It will hurt a lot, but I have administered it anyway because I don't think it was fair to let him live with more scars like that. It works best on fresh wounds."

"Will it help his old scars?" James asked. "He hates them. We've never even seen him with his top off and we've lived with him for more than four years."

"It'll take some time, but hopefully it should almost completely heal his burn scars and greatly reduce the ones caused by the wolf," Madame Pomfrey told him. "Wounds caused by a werewolf are notoriously hard to heal."

Remus shifted restlessly on his bed. Sirius saw his eyelids flutter as he struggled to open them. "Pack?" he asked in a faint, shallow voice.

"We're here, Moony," Sirius whispered.

"S'rius?" Remus's eyes half-opened and sought out Sirius's face. Remus tried to smile and his whole body shifted towards Sirius, causing him to let out soft whimpers of pain.

"Don't move, Moony," Sirius said, hurriedly sitting down and picking up one of Remus's hands. "I'm here. See? And James and Peter are here too."

"Pack," Remus murmured, and his voice was faint, but satisfied. His fingers curled weakly around Sirius's. "Moony pack."

"Yes," James said sitting on one side of Sirius while Peter took the chair on the other.

Remus's eyes drifted over James and Peter's faces, then settled on Sirius's again. "Hurts," he told them, each breath seeming to cost him.

"We're sorry," Peter said. "But don't talk. It'll make it worse."

"Hurts 'nside."

"We know, Moony." Sirius rubbed his thumb over Remus's palm and the werewolf's fingers curled around it. "You broke your ribs and one made your lung hurt. That's why breathing makes you sore."

"Mh-mm." Remus shook his head painfully. "Hurts, hurts  _'nside_. Sad. Moony sad."

There was a long silence as the others in the hospital wing exchanged distressed glances. Then Sirius asked quietly, "why are you sad, Moony?"

Remus shook his again, his eyes drifting shut. "Secrets 'n secrets 'n secrets. Moony keep. Moony a'ways keep."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Done it!" Sirius said triumphantly, flinging down his quill and rocking back in his chair so it stood on two legs. "Eat your heart out, Gertie Trebbletome! From now on, everyone will use the Marauder version because it's actually in proper English.  _And_ we use the letter 's'."

"No they won't," Peter said, taking the notebook from Sirius and flicking through the pages. "The reason being that the Marauder version is illegal and if anyone found us with it, we'd probably be expelled – if not arrested."

"Well, when we become rich and famous and everyone knows our animagus forms, people will use it," Sirius amended.

"You're more likely to become infamous, mate," James told Sirius, rolling off his bed and kneeling in front of his trunk to pull out his school potions kit.

"Whatever," Sirius said. "Fame is fame. Who cares what it's for?"

"I'd like to hear you say that when you're hiding in someone's cellar while the world bays for your blood."

"Bays for my blood?" Sirius wrinkled his nose. "You've been spending too much time with Moony. That sounded like a book-thing."

"Pass the notebook, Pete," James said, sorting through his potions ingredients. He took it from the chubby Marauder and frowned as he scanned the recipe for the meditation potion. "There aren't too many obscure ingredients," he muttered. "And it only takes a day to make. It's really fiddly, though, and the actual meditation can take between three to ten hours to discover your inner animal. We'll need to nick some myrrh and snake root from Slughorn's stores."

"Let's do it tonight," Sirius said eagerly. "Moony's going to be in the hospital wing for a few days. We may as well make use of the time to brew the potion. We could have discovered our animals by the time he's out. We're really getting there now!"

"That's the easy part," James pointed out. "The actual animagus potion is the most complicated thing I have  _ever_ seen. It takes four months to make and I have no idea how we're going to get hold of some of the ingredients. I mean – runespoor scales! Runespoors are a protected species. And what about the Veela hair? You have to pay a fortune for them, and only potions masters are allowed to buy them. And there are other things here that I haven't even heard of before. And if that's not bad enough, it takes incredible amounts of magical concentration to make the first complete change. After you've done it once, you're pretty much sorted, but apparently it's one of the hardest types of magic to achieve. It's wandless, wordless, and it changes the whole genetic makeup of your body, while keeping your brain and thoughts still human. To be perfectly honest, I have no idea how we're going to pull this off."

"I don't care," Sirius said stubbornly. "We're going to do it. If McGonagall can, I don't see why we can't."

"McGonagall is a Master of Transfiguration," James told him. "She's so good at it that she got her Transfiguration Newt at fifteen. My Dad says they begged her to work for the Ministry, but she chose to stay here and work for Dumbledore."

"I'll never be able to do it," Peter said miserably. "You two are probably the brightest in our year so you  _might_ be able to pull it off, but I really have no hope."

"You  _will_ ," Sirius told him. "We'll help you. Now lets do it one step at a time. We'll start with the meditation potion."

"Okay," James said. "And just to remind you – there's no backing out once we've started. Even though it's fairly easy to make, this potion is illegal unless you have Ministry approval. It says so right here. Once we've started, we have to keep going."

"I have no intention of backing out," Sirius said stubbornly.

"Nor me," James said.

The turned to look at Peter and the chubby boy jutted his chin forward, his eyes alight with determination. "I won't either," he promised.

"For Remus," Sirius said.

"Remus," the other two echoed.

Sirius felt excitement bubble up from his stomach and into his chest. If they could do this, they could do anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two of the scenes from this chapter were brilliantly recreated by the Mischief Managers, and can be found at the links below! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CisZrPT_dnE&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE&index=6
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0yBLu-srKKw&index=7&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE


	40. The First Animagus Potion

_**"For you, a thousand times over."** _

_**(The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini)** _

**REMUS:**

Remus didn't recover his mind until two days after the full moon. It was the longest time he had ever spent in his childlike state, and he was so frightened at the thought of never recovering that he made Pomfrey give him a quiz on all the hardest fourth year spells she could think of, just to check there was no permanent damage.

Madame Pomfrey was very patient with him. When he refused to tell her what had been upsetting him, she didn't push him. She reassured him through a fit of hysterics when he was sure that his mind was slipping away again. She went to the library and brought back piles of books to keep Remus amused while his friends weren't there and Angela and Neil had gone back to work.

In return, Remus never mentioned his hatred of being trapped in the Hospital Wing, and he never complained about the excruciating pain the scar-healing potion caused all over his body – even though he often felt as though his skin was literally melting off.

The Marauders, of course, visited him at every opportunity, bringing chocolate, sweets, books, and stories of pranks and Quidditch practice. On the third evening of his stay in the Hospital Wing, Sirius came on his own, sneaking past Madame Pomfrey who was dealing with a group of second year potions accident victims.

"I brought Hamish," Sirius told Remus, lifting the hedgehog out of his pocket and into Remus's lap. "I think he's pining for you. If we let him wander round the dorm he always tries to climb on your bed as if he's looking for you." He pulled up a chair to Remus's bed and straddled it backwards.

"Poor thing," Remus murmured, running his hand gently over the red and gold spines. Hamish butted his hand with his little pointed nose. "I miss you too."

"When are you getting out?" Sirius asked, pulling a few chocolate frogs out of his pocket and putting them on the bed as well.

"I don't know." Remus sighed, casting a longing look at the door. "She says she has to keep an eye on the scar-healing potion's progress because it's new and she has to watch for side effects." He shifted in his bed. "I hate being trapped in here."

"I know, Moony." Sirius put a comforting hand on Remus's arm and Remus silently scolded himself for leaning into the touch. "If it gets too bad, let me know and I'll come and break you out."

Remus smiled, remembering one of Sirius's letters from the summer before. "On your charger, right?"

"Exactly," Sirius said. "Though it's changed from being a white stallion to a motorbike. Much faster and less likely to up and die on me."

"But more likely to get you arrested for illegal use of magic on a Muggle machine," Remus pointed out. "Anyway, I'm fine. My lung is mostly healed and the scar potion is doing wonders on my body. It hasn't looked this healthy since before my first transformation."

"Really?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Does this mean you'll actually come swimming in the lake with us for a change?"

Remus shook his head violently and clutched his pyjama top closer to his body. The thought of Sirius seeing his scarred, broken body and being revolted or even pitying was too terrible to contemplate.

Sirius sighed. "Always the same old Moony."

Remus pressed his lips together and thought of how much he'd changed since Christmas. Now he was not only a werewolf, but he was also gay and in love with his best friend. The gods really had to be laughing.

"It's not a bad thing," Sirius said, watching Remus's expression. "I wouldn't want you to change, Remus. I like you just how you are."

Remus looked away, picking up Hamish and holding him up to eye level. "I think he's getting fat. Have you lot been spoiling him?"

"You're deliberately changing the subject," Sirius said.

"Yes, I am actually. Go with it."

Sirius crossed his arms on the back of the chair he was straddling, rested his chin on them and raised an elegant black eyebrow.

Remus frowned.

"Fine!" Sirius said. "To answer your question, we  _might_ have been spoiling him a little bit. I told you – he was pining for you and he looked so sad wandering around searching for you."

"Well, now you've found me," Remus said sternly to Hamish, "I'm putting you on a diet. No more bacon for every meal. Hedgehogs are supposed to eat hedgehog food. Or dog food, in your case." Hamish looked up eagerly at the word 'bacon'.

"Poor Hamish," Sirius said. "That dog food really is vile."

Remus stared at Sirius. "You've been eating it?"

"Only a taste. I didn't want him eating something I wouldn't try."

"That's gross!"

"This coming from the bloke who invented cottage-pie-a-la-chocolate," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

"You know perfectly well that chocolate goes with everything."

"Only in the world of Mr. Remus 'Moony' Lupin: Chocoholic Extraordinaire."

There was a knock at the door and they turned towards it.

"That's odd," Sirius said, cocking his head. "I didn't think James and Pete were –"

He broke off as the door opened and Lily's head peered round. Remus felt Moony's hackles go up as he scented who was with her.

"What do you want, Evans?" Sirius demanded. "Does Madame Pomfrey know you're here?"

"Yes, actually, Black," Lily said, putting her nose in the air. "Does she know  _you're_ here?"

Sirius lazily made a rude hand gesture at her.

"Sirius!"

Remus sighed and lay back against his pillows as Rebecca's face appeared over Lily's shoulder, looking at Sirius disapprovingly. "That was rude!"

"Sorry, Evans," Sirius said, not sounding in the least bit sorry. "Hey, Rebecca."

Rebecca's face broke out in a smile and she trotted over to perch herself on Sirius's knee. "I'm glad you've forgiven me for the other night," she said. "I didn't know Lupin was this ill." She kissed Sirius's cheek and Remus scowled, before glancing up to see Lily watching him with a knowing look on her face. His scowl deepened and he repeated Sirius's hand gesture at her.

"Remus!" Sirius sounded shocked.

Lily laughed, looking completely unruffled. "Oh, grow up, Black. You just did the exact same thing."

"Yes, but Remus is the  _nice_ one!"

Lily laughed even harder. "That's what you think? If you only knew all the things he thinks about – "

"If you dare finish that sentence," Remus interrupted with a growl in his voice, "I will personally lock you and James in a closet together for three days and only let you out once you've made out with him for half an hour."

"That's a cruel and unusual punishment," Lily accused, looking a mixture of amused and slightly disturbed.

"I am a cruel and unusual person," Remus answered, glowering at her.

"Wow." Sirius actually sounded awed as his gaze flicked between the two of them. "What did you do to him, Evans? It must have been something truly dreadful."

Lily suddenly looked repentant. "I came to say sorry for that, Remus," she said, turning to look at him. "I had no right to – you know – interfere like that. Even if I was right," she added, apparently unable to resist.

"You weren't right," Remus muttered, knowing it was useless.

"Yes I was. Anyway, you really look bad. What happened? I heard you had 'one of your attacks' again. Would you tell me what's wrong with you? Nobody seems to know. Frank Longbottom just said you've always been sickly. Right since first year."

"You have no right to ask him that," Sirius snapped, before Remus could answer. "You've obviously upset Moony and he doesn't have to tell you anything!"

"Aw, come on, Sirius," Rebecca said, shifting a little awkwardly on Sirius's knee as he was still straddling his chair. "She's been going on about it all week. Getting worried and feeling guilty and stuff. Let him tell her and give me some peace."

"No!" Sirius pushed her off his lap and shifted from his chair onto the bed so he was blocking Remus's sight of the girls. "I won't let you make him feel guilty for not telling you."

"Why don't you let him speak for himself?" Lily's famous temper flared. "You don't own him!"

She stepped forward and peered over his shoulder at Remus who, feeling too ill and tired to become involved in the argument, was cowering behind Sirius's rigidly protective back.

Lily's face softened and she took a little step back. "Fine. I shouldn't have asked, now, when you're ill."

"Please leave," Remus murmured.

"I really am sorry, Remus," Lily said, grabbing Rebecca's arm and dragging her friend to the door.

"Come, Sirius," Rebecca pleaded. "You've been with your friends all day. At least spend a bit of time with me."

"Not now, Rebecca," Sirius said, his voice curt. "One of my friends is in hospital. I'm sure you can understand that I want to be with him."

Rebecca looked like she was going to argue, but eventually she just sighed and followed Lily out the door.

Before he thought about what he was doing, Remus let out a sigh and wound both arms round Sirius's waist from behind, pressing his face against his friend's back. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered fervently. "I don't think I could have… I mean I wasn't really… I wouldn't have known what to say…"

"I know, it's okay." To Remus's surprise, instead of pulling away from him, Sirius just placed his hands over the arms around his waist.

Remus, suddenly noticing the position they were in, pulled away quickly, flushing. He was glad Sirius had his back to him and couldn't see his expression. "You should have gone with Rebecca," he said. "She's your girlfriend. I'm fine here."

"I told you before," Sirius said glancing round to meet Remus's eyes. "Marauders over girls every time."

Remus felt a rush of pleasure fill him, but still said, " _she_  doesn't know that."

"If she doesn't know that by now, she really is living in cloud cuckoo land," Sirius answered. "I've made it clear enough. The Marauders are the most important thing. We'll always stand by each other first." He clasped his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "Would you tell me why you were so upset this moon?"

Remus felt his chest ache. "I  _can't_ , Sirius. I told you."

"Why?" Sirius looked up at him with a desperate expression in his eyes. " _Why_ can't you tell me? I don't think you understand how bad it was for us as well, this month. We thought you were going to die. We were up all night worrying and fretting and not even knowing  _why_ it was happening." He looked away again. "I can't do that for another month, Moony. It was… it was really bad. I just can't do it again, and if we don't fix what's upsetting you, I'll have to."

"I won't let it happen again," Remus promised. "I'm more centered now. I've got used to it. I won't let it happen again. Next month will be just like normal."

"How can I be expected to believe that?"

"I can only ask you to trust me."

Sirius let out groan of frustration, but eventually sagged in defeat. "Fine. I'll trust you."

Remus felt himself relax as well, and with it, he felt a new rush of hot fire lancing through him from his healing scars. Unable to help himself, he let out a soft whimper of pain.

"Oh, Moony," Sirius said, sliding off the bed and helping him to straighten up. "One of these days we're going to do something to help you. Now you should go to sleep and I should probably go and find Rebecca before she causes another scene."

"Yeah," Remus murmured, hiding his disappointment.

"'Night, then, Moony," Sirius said, standing up. "Escape soon. We miss you in the dorm. There's no one to beat James in a pillow fight and he's really getting unbearable. Not to mention all the Lily-mooning."

Remus smiled. "I miss you lads too. It's no fun here."

"Except when I visit you," Sirius said.

"Well, of course  _then_ it's a barrel of laughs."

"I'll pretend that the sarcasm in your voice was a symptom of your fevered mind." Sirius patted him on the head, retrieved Hamish from where he was curled up in Remus's covers and sauntered out the room.

"Don't feed him too much bacon!" Remus called after him. "And I'm not a dog!"

He heard Sirius laugh as he headed out the Hospital Wing.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was another three days before Madame Pomfrey allowed Remus to escape.

"You can't stop the course of the scar-potion," she told him sternly. "If you don't come here so I can apply it every second night for another two months, the potion will wear thin and many of the scars will not only stop fading, but also begin to get worse again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Remus said dutifully, willing to agree to anything in order to get out.

"You'll probably have to ask your friends for help with your back when I'm away on a conference at St. Mungo's at the beginning of March," she added.

Remus hesitated for only second before replying. "Yes. I will." He hated having to lie to her, but there was no option. There was no way he would ever show any of his friends – particularly Sirius – the battered, scar-ridden body. He hadn't gone to all the effort of hiding it for this long to give it up now. He was sure he could find a way to apply the potion on his own. "Can I go now?"

She sighed. "Yes, you may go. Try not to upset yourself too much this month. Another moon like that will be the death of me."

"It really would be the death of me," Remus answered. "Don't worry. I will make sure I don't wind myself up so much again."

"See that you do." Madame Pomfrey hesitated for a second, before suddenly reaching out and drawing the surprised Remus into a quick hug. "You're my favourite patient. I would hate to lose you."

Remus put up a show of struggling, but inside he felt warmth filling him as the first adult who had ever showed him real kindness proved to him that she still cared.

"Go on then," she said, smiling and giving him a gentle push in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower.

Remus, feeling more light-hearted than he had since that fateful conversation with Lily, headed back to the Gryffindor Tower. He saw quite a few heads turn towards him as he climbed gingerly through the portrait hole.

"You okay, mate?" Frank asked, from where he was doing his homework at one of the tables. "I heard you were pretty bad for a while there. Black nearly savaged the whole Gryffindor population he was in such a mood."

"I'm fine," Remus assured him. "Much better. Sorry about Sirius. He worries."

"We noticed," Michael said dryly. "You should keep him on a leash."

Remus decided not to answer that. "Do you know where my friends are?"

"I saw Black and Pettigrew heading up to your dorm a couple of hours ago," Frank told him. "I think Potter was already up there. They've been spending a lot of time up there recently. Probably planning pranks as usual."

Remus smiled. "Probably. Thanks, Frank."

"Anytime, mate."

Remus climbed the stairs to the dorm and paused for a second to listen outside. Even his sharp ears couldn't pick up any movement and he frowned. He quietly opened the door and peered inside. What he saw made his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline in surprise.

The other Marauders appeared to be meditating. They sat cross-legged in a triangle on the floor, breathing evenly. Their eyes were closed and their postures relaxed. Remus could barely believe his eyes.

James and Sirius taking up meditating? The thought seemed the wrong shape to fit comfortably in his mind. They hadn't even stirred when he came in.

Just then, Remus caught sight of three empty potion vials lying on the floor beside the boys. His breath caught in his throat and a feeling of dread rose in his stomach. What on earth could they be doing? He didn't dare disturb them in case it reacted badly with whatever spell they appeared to be doing.

He crept over to his bed and spotted Hamish – looking rather replete and pot-bellied – sleeping peacefully on his pillow. He climbed on and pulled Hamish into his lap, settling to watch his friends, his heart hammering. He briefly considered going to Professor McGonagall, but he was afraid that what they were doing might be highly illegal.

He remained sitting there for almost an hour before Sirius suddenly let out a shrill scream and his whole body stiffened and jerked violently. His movement disturbed the others who blinked awake and stared at him in alarm

"What happened?" James demanded.

"The Grim!" Sirius gasped. "Oh  _Merlin,_ James! I saw the  _Grim!_  It's an omen of death." He shuddered violently. "It was a vision! What if Moony's in trouble?"

James's eyes widened.

"Lads!" Remus clapped his hands to get their attention, causing all three of them to jump and swing around to face him. "I'm right here. What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"Moony!" Sirius leapt up and launched himself at Remus. "You're alright!"

Remus yanked himself and Hamish out of the way just in time. "Watch it! I still have injuries you know, and I don't fancy another stint in the Hospital Wing. Now what are you lot doing? I've been sitting here for hours."

The other began to look very shifty. "We were meditating," Sirius said. "To relax ourselves."

"With potion?" Remus pointed to the vials. "What are you  _doing_? Meditation magic is strong stuff. You could've lost your minds!"

He saw the three of them exchange uncertain, but resigned glances.

"We found something to help you, Moony," Sirius said hesitantly.

Remus stared at his earnest grey eyes for a few seconds before he whispered, "What did you say?"

"At the full moon. We found something that will help you. We're working on it. But we didn't want to tell you in case you got your hopes up and it didn't work."

Remus stared at them, then at the vials. He caught sight of a notebook lying open where Sirius had been sitting. It must have been obscured by his robes when Remus came in. He could just make out the words 'Marauder Translation' written along the top in Sirius's elegant copperplate handwriting.

"What the hell are you doing? Tell me! Is it dangerous?"

He scrambled off his bed and made a grab for the book before James could stop him. He flicked his eyes up to the first line.

'Becoming an animagus is a difficult…'

Remus stopped reading before he even completed the first sentence.

" _WHAT!_ "

"Remus, let us explain," Peter begged.

"Do you have any  _idea_ how dangerous this is?" Remus yelled at them, waving the notebook furiously. "What the h- _hell_ were you thinking? This is not only  _dangerous_ , but it's also  _illegal!_   _Did that ever c-cross those thick Gryffindor minds of yours?_ You could go to  _Azkaban_ for this!"

"McGonagall said werewolves don't attack animals, but they could calm them down so they don't hurt themselves at full moon," James said quickly, as Remus paused to take a breath. "But animals are afraid of werewolves. If we  _became_ animals, we could keep you company and stop you hurting yourself. Can you imagine that Moony? You could wake up after your transformation with no new wounds. No new scars."

Remus was struck dumb. Was it possible? Could the solution to the end of the most painful part of his life really be this simple? He could wake up after his transformation without the burning agony of ripped flesh and cracked ribs. He would never have to worry about dying of blood loss every time he changed. It was a wonderful, mind-blowing thought that made him want to scream for joy.

He looked down at the notebook again.  _'Becoming an animagus is a difficult and dangerous task to undertake…'_

He couldn't let them do this. Powerful, fully-grown wizards had been defeated by this spell. Many were permanently trapped in a half-animal, half-human form. Others lost their minds completely to the animal, while some retained their human minds, but remained trapped in animal form. Three fifteen-year-old boys had no hope of ever pulling it off successfully.

"I can't let you do this," he whispered, his hands shaking as he held the book. "Not only is it illegal, but it's also dangerous. You could never do it, and I couldn't bear to have you permanently damage yourselves trying."

"But Remus," Sirius protested, "this could save your life. We could give you something you've not had since you were five. Don't you want that?"

Remus dropped the book and grabbed Sirius by the shoulders, giving him a hard shake. " _Yes,_ I want it,  _dammit!_  But not at the risk of  _losing_ you. I would rather tear myself to pieces every full moon for the rest of my life than be responsible for ruining your lives and possibly your minds. I  _know_ what it's like to be stuck with the mind of an animal, or trapped in an animal's body against your will. I can't let that happen to you. I would die first."

"You  _will_ die!"

"Then so be it!"

Sirius glared at him, actually panting in anger, or perhaps from Remus's forceful shaking. "I don't care," he said, shifting so his face was directly in front of Remus's. "I'm going to do this and you can't stop me. I've memorised the process now so even if you destroy that book you can't stop me. I'm going to do this and if you get in my way it'll only make it more dangerous." He froze suddenly, realisation coming over his face, followed by a delighted smile. "The  _Grim._  I'm the  _Grim._  I'm such an idiot! I'm a giant black dog. That's my form!"

He pulled himself away from Remus and began doing what looked like an Indian war-dance around the room. "I'm the Grim, I'm the Grim, I'm the Grim!" He pointed his finger at James and Peter who were staring at him with half delighted, half envious looks on their faces. "Take that, you hedgehogs."

"They're hedgehogs?" Remus asked in alarm.

"No," James said indignantly. "We don't know what we are yet. That idiot there interrupted our meditation. I'm bound to be something better than some stupid dog."

"I'll bet I'm a hedgehog," Peter said miserably.

"Nothing wrong with hedgehogs," Sirius said, obviously feeling benevolent in his triumph. "Hamish is awesome."

"Nobody is  _anything_ ," Remus interrupted. "On account of the fact that you're going to stop this stupid nonsense before it gets too far."

"Forget it, Moony," James said. "You're not stopping us - just like Sirius said. I'm taking more potion tonight, and I'm going to find out what I am."

"You're  _not!_ " Remus said in frustration.

"Remus." Sirius put an arm around Remus's shoulder. "Do you honestly think you can stop us?"

Remus's head drooped as he realised that in truth, he really had no way of stopping them. They had already gone too far for him to report it, and he had no way of stopping them on his own.

"Please," he begged. "Please, please for  _my_ sake, don't do this."

"It's for your sake we  _are_ doing this," Peter said, a look of determination in his face that Remus had never seen before. "James, give me some more potion."

Remus watched helplessly as James went to his chest and pulled out two more vials, handing one to Peter and keeping one for himself.

"What if you take an overdose?" Remus said. "You've already had one tonight."

"The effects of the potion wear off as soon as the user's meditation is broken," James assured him. "Now you and Sirius must go sit somewhere quietly so you don't disturb us."

"Please. I beg you. Don't do this," Remus pleaded

"Just cast a silencing charm round yourselves," Sirius suggested, as though Remus hadn't spoken. "You'll need something to attach it to, so you and Pete could sit on a bed and draw the curtains. I'm not leaving the room. I want to stay here and dream about being the Grim. Ooh! I need to think up a Marauder's name for me."

James scowled. "Can't you go off and snog Rosemary for a bit? At least Remus is quiet."

"Rosemary?" Remus asked, his attention diverted. "Don't you mean Rebecca?"

"Nope," Sirius said cheerfully. "Rosemary from Hufflepuff. Remember she was watching me at the Quidditch game and you said she fancied me? I dumped Rebecca. I went to see her the other night after I left you and she said I had to choose between you lads and her."

Remus didn't know whether to feel touched, confused, or irritated. "So now you're going out with Rosemary?" Couldn't Sirius give his battered heart a break and give up girlfriends for a few days, at least? "Do you fancy her?"

Sirius shrugged. "She's pretty. Nice eyes."

"Just because she's pretty doesn't mean you have to go out with her." Remus was unable to keep the rising frustration from his voice. "If you don't fancy her, you shouldn't. That's how you end up breaking people's hearts. If she doesn't work out for you, are you just going to move on to some other poor girl? 'I'm sorry, Rosemary, but you're just not doing it for me. Hey Sara! Want to snog?'"

"Oh - does Sara fancy me too?" Sirius asked with interest.

Remus growled and punched his bed post. It cracked and bent. He glared at it before pulling out his wand and casting  _reparo._  "For God's sake, Sirius, you don't have to go out with people just because they fancy you!"

"Well, if I don't fancy anyone, it's a good place to start, isn't it?"

"If you don't fancy anyone, don't go out with anyone!"

Sirius scowled. "You have no right to tell me who not to go out with! I'm allowed to make my own choices. I don't see you having a go at James about Kemp. He doesn't even call the girl by her first name!"

"Hey, hey," James protested. "Leave me out of this. Come on, Pete. Let's do this thing." He gestured to his bed and the two of them crawled onto it and drew the curtains round them. Remus heard James mutter a silencing charm before all went quiet from their side.

"You know, to anyone else, that could have looked very dodgy," Sirius commented, looking at James's closed bed curtains.

Remus sighed, putting his head in his hands. He felt terrible for how he had attacked Sirius. He knew deep down that it wasn't his concern for the girls, but his own feelings that had made him do it. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. You  _do_ have the right to make your own choices."

His bed dipped as Sirius sat down beside him. "I don't do it to break their hearts, you know," he said after a few seconds. "I really do want to go out with someone. I just… it didn't feel right with Rebecca, you know? I thought maybe it would feel different with Rosemary."

"Does it?" Remus asked.

"I don't know. I think I need some time to see. She's not as pushy as Rebecca. She doesn't demand to see me all the time."

"Is that a good thing?"

Sirius smiled wryly. "Who knows? I have no idea how girls' minds work."

"One of the mysteries of the male world, hm?"

"I guess."

Remus ran his fingers reflectively over the repaired post of his bed. "Please don't do this animagus thing," he said. "I've read some truly  _horrible_ things about what can go wrong. I read a book by this Transfiguration Master called Gertie Trebbletome and she said –"

" _WHAT!_ " Sirius gaped at him and Remus stopped in confusion.

"What's the matter?"

"You read Gertie Trebbletome's  _Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How To Do It_ for  _fun_?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it  _fun_ ," Remus admitted. "I bought it from a second hand book shop in Diagon Alley. It's a bit archaic, but some of the things she writes about are really interesting." He glanced at Sirius who was still gaping at him. "I'm surprised you know about it to be honest."

"You owned it," Sirius said faintly. "You'd read it. You could have saved us  _months_ , no,  _years_  of work."

"That's the book you translated?" Remus asked, glancing down at the notebook. "Well, I guess it is the only reliable written method of the animagus transformation process in existence. Most people who register get tutors from the Ministry."

"How do you know so much about it anyway?" Sirius demanded.

Remus shrugged. "We had that homework assignment on it, remember? In third year. And I was reading a book that said it is the most complicated human transfiguration in existence because it's permanent. And that got me thinking because ' _human_ transfiguration' was an odd term to use. Does that mean a werewolf couldn't do it? Every human being has an inner animal. I was wondering if the wolf had …you know… destroyed mine. I know that a big part of me is wolf, and I just wondered if I had any of my old inner animal left or if that part of me had died forever. And what would happen if I tried to become an animagus?"

Sirius visibly shuddered. "Great Merlin, you have morbid thoughts, Moony.  _Promise_ me that you'll never try it."

"Promise me you won't either."

"Remus, you know I have a chance of succeeding. Heaven only knows what would happen if you tried. You could get stuck as an insane, rampaging wolf forever, and I would never be able to turn back human or play Quidditch because I would always have to be there to stop you hurting yourself."

Remus wondered if it was actually possible to melt with fondness. His insides were having a good go at it anyway. "You would stay with me if I got trapped as Moony forever?"

"Of course I would," Sirius said, looking at him as though he had just asked a very stupid question. "Whether you were completely wolfish, or just stuck in your post-full-moon state. You think I would just run off and leave you in some cage or mental hospital or something? Post-moon-you likes me the best anyway," he added boastfully.

Remus flushed, but continued to stare at Sirius, unable to say anything. He knew for a fact that Sirius had ruined him for anyone else. No one – male or female – would ever live up to him in Remus's eyes.

"Are you seriously telling me you didn't know that?" Sirius said, looking a little uncomfortable. "Don't you know that's what best friends are for?"

"No," Remus answered. "I never had one before you."

"Well, then we're the lucky ones who snagged you first," Sirius said. "Now help me think up a name for my doggy-me."

"Please reconsider."

"Nope," Sirius shook his head. "Now use that marvellously intelligent brain of yours for something other than planning ways to sabotage our efforts and think of a good name for me."

Remus groaned and flopped back on his bed. He knew when he was defeated and Sirius did, too. "If it wasn't already your name, I'd say 'Sirius'," he commented. "It's a bit ironic, you know. Sirius being the dog-star. And you being a Black."

"No more ironic than your name being 'Remus Lupin'," Sirius pointed out, flopping back beside Remus. "Now, since that  _is_ my name, please come up with something slightly more imaginative."

Remus screwed up his face in thought. "How about 'Grim'? That's what you said you look like."

"I do," Sirius said. "But Grim is a horrible name. It doesn't suit my magnetic personality and brilliant good looks."

"Or that stellar modesty," Remus agreed. "Alright, how about 'Padfoot'?"

"Padfoot?" Sirius asked doubtfully. "Where did that come from?"

"In Sussex, there's a legend about a giant, black, spectral dog similar to the Grim. It's called Padfoot. I thought it sounded more bouncy and less …er… grim than 'Grim'. It's better than 'Moony' anyway."

"Nothing wrong with 'Moony'," Sirius said. "Hm… Padfoot. You know, I quite like it."

"Alright then, Mr Padfoot," Remus said, smiling. "Can I just ask you  _not_ to get stuck in your doggy form? I would hate to have to translate for you for the rest of your life."

"You speak 'doggy' Mr. Moony?" Sirius asked with apparent delight.

"I speak 'canine-ish'," Remus said. "It's not hard. There're only about fifty words in the vocabulary. 'eat', 'food', 'chase', 'kill', 'pack', 'run', 'mate', 'play'… you get the picture anyway. Not a great language for philosophising in."

"This is so cool!" Sirius said. "I wonder if – "

There was a loud thump and they both turned to see James roll off his bed and away from the silencing charm. As soon as he was out, he started yelling, " _I'm a stag, I'm a stag!_ " and doing Sirius's war dance round the room. "Take  _that_ you slobbering canines!"

"You're a stag?" Remus asked. "You're arrogant, loyal, stubborn, and always barrel into things head-first. It's fitting."

"Was that a compliment?"

"It was," Remus assured him. "It suits you perfectly."

"Yeah, Prongs," Sirius said. "It does."

"Prongs?" James looked insulted. "You can do better than that!"

"Nope. It goes with your prongy hair and your soon-to-be antlers."

"I don't like it."

"Well, you're stuck with it now," Remus said. "We'll never call you anything else."

Just then, there was another thump and Peter rolled off the bed, his face devastated.

"Pete!" Remus said, rushing over to him. "What's wrong? It's not a hedgehog is it? You know, they really aren't that bad. Come on. It can't be that awful."

"It's worse than a hedgehog," Peter whispered, looking very pale. "I can't believe it. It's horrible!"

"What is it?" Sirius asked, coming over. "A frog? A flea? A stag?" he shot James a teasing glance.

"A rat," Peter whispered, looking mortified.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"It's really a good thing," Remus said, as the Marauders headed down to breakfast the next morning. He couldn't help but reflect the fact he was now effectively encouraging their scheme instead of discouraging it like he should be, but he never had many defences against his friends' hurts, and Peter's unhappiness wrenched at him.

"It's not," Peter said miserably. "Moony could kill me with one bite. How will I stop you hurting yourself? And rats are horrible! They're twitchy and scurrying and they have tails like worms."

"He has a point," Sirius agreed, patting Peter consolingly on the back.

"He does not," Remus insisted. "Rats are brilliant! Think of all the things you have going for you. You you're very fast. You could easily avoid my jaws if I took a snap at you. You can squeeze into very tight spaces – think of all the brilliant pranks we could pull because of that. You could sneak into the Slytherin common room and no one would bump into you like they would in the invisibility cloak. And if all else fails, you can run out and make a dash at the nearest girl and you have a full scale panic attack that will give you a chance to dash to safety. In fact, a rat is probably the most Marauderish animal there is. The ultimate in sneakiness."

He looked up to see the other three staring at him.

" _I_ want to be a rat!" James declared. "What use is a stupid old stag? Just think of all the pranks I could pull…" his face took on a dreamy cast.

"I really  _can_ do all that stuff, can't I?" Peter asked, his voice hopeful. "It's not a bad thing to be, is it?"

"I keep telling you that," Remus said, smiling at him and slinging an arm over his shoulders. "When will you learn that I'm always right?"

"You  _are_  always right," Sirius agreed, looking rather put out. "It's incredibly annoying. How do you manage it?"

"That's another one of my famous secrets," Remus told him. "One of the ones you're not going to find out."

"So you're not so bad after all, Wormtail," James said, pulling Peter away from Remus and into a cheerful headlock.

" _Wormtail!_ " Peter shrieked in an indignant – if rather muffled – voice.

"If I have to be Prongs, you have to be Wormtail."

"I'm not answering to it," Peter said stubbornly.

"Well, we're not going to call you anything else," Sirius told him with a snigger. It was the kind of snigger that gave sniggering a bad name. Remus gave him a reprimanding look.

"We'll think of something else, Pete," he assured the chubby Marauder who was currently trying to escape James's hold.

"No we won't," James and Sirius said together.

"You've been christened Wormtail, mate," Sirius added. "It's a sad truth that you're going to have to live with."

Peter scowled. "When I can turn into a rat, I'm going to gnaw chunks out of your prize Comet 260."

"Oh yeah,  _Wormtail?_ " Sirius said. "Then when I can turn into a dog, I'll open your trunk and cock my leg into it."

"Great Godric, Sirius,  _really_?" Remus pulled a disgusted face.

"No wonder that's what your inner animal is," James muttered.

They entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. Remus almost jumped out of his skin when there was a high-pitched shriek of, "Sirius!" followed by a chestnut-headed blur that resulted in Sirius receiving a lapful of happy Hufflepuff.

Remus raised an eyebrow as he fought down his instinctive reaction; a mixture of hurt and jealousy. Sirius looked rather embarrassed. "Hey, Rosemary," he said, giving her a peck on the lips and shoving her pointedly onto the seat beside him. "I don't think you're allowed to sit at the Gryffindor table.

"They won't mind just this once," Rosemary told him airily. "And I hardly saw you at  _all_  yesterday."

 _Brilliant,_  Remus thought, trying not to catch Lily's eye from where she was watching the scene with an expression of knowing sympathy.  _What a pleasant way to start my day._


	41. The Second Secret

_I got you to hold my hand_

_I got you to understand_

_I got you to walk with me_

_I got you to talk with me_

_I got you to kiss goodnight_

_I got you to hold me tight_

_I got you, I won't let go_

_I got you to love me so_

_Babe. I got you, babe._

_(Sonny and Cher)_

**SIRIUS:**

True to his word, Remus's next transformation wasn't the life and death situation that his previous one had been. Although Sirius knew his friend was still very uptight about something, he appeared to have become used to whatever it was and once again used his legendary iron will to squash it down before the full moon.

As they drew close to mid-February, the Marauders – including a very reluctant Remus – began making plans for obtaining the ingredients for the second potion of the animagus transformation. Although the potion contained  _some_ everyday ingredients, many of them were so corrosive, volatile, and powerful that only Potions Masters were legally allowed to have them in their possession. The Marauders spent a lot of time trying to come up with plans to obtain them without venturing down the dangerous route of trying to buy them illegally from somewhere in the infamously flourishing black market of Knockturn Alley.

One day in February, just as spring was beginning to show its first tentative leaf-green signs of emerging, Sirius was holed up in the Marauder's dormitory in an effort to escape Rosemary for a few hours. The girl was becoming as bad as Rebecca had been when it came to the subject of Sirius's friends.

The rest of the Marauders were down in the common room taking part in a fourth and fifth year boys-versus-girls Gobstone competition which Remus – with his superior reflexes – appeared to be winning when Sirius left.

Sirius now lay on his bed with an advanced charms book he had nicked from the Restricted Section of the Library and the tape-player he had bought at the Muggle electrical shop. He'd spent the last few weeks working on charms to alter the machine so it could play in magical surroundings and he was sure he almost had it conquered. He couldn't wait until he could present it to Remus for his birthday in March.

He took a deep breath and cast the last spell, making sure he did the intricate wand movement perfectly. One small mistake could ruin weeks of work at this point. After a long moment, there was a faint buzzing from the machine and the tiny red 'power' button on the machine lit up.

Sirius let out an explosive breath and felt a grin of victorious delight spread across his face. He'd done it! Remus would be so happy. He could listen to his mother's Muggle songs as much as he wanted now.

Sirius crawled to the end of his bed and rummaged round in his trunk to pull out the bag of tapes Remus had picked out at Sirius's insistence. He pulled one out at random and looked at the picture on the front. It was in black and white – completely still, as all Muggle photos were – and depicted a woman with black hair and a man holding hands in a tree. The title was 'Look at Us' and identified the tree-sitting Muggles as 'Sonny' and 'Cher'.

He pulled it out of its case and, after a few false starts, succeeded in slotting it into the tape player correctly. He hesitated for a few seconds, then pressed 'play'. There were a few long, hope-filled moments before music suddenly emerged from the speakers, as clearly as if it were being played on a wizard's wireless.

Sirius let out a whoop of delight as a voice began to sing.

"… _ **Babe**_ _ **…I got you, babe… They say we're young and we don't know, and we won't find out until we grow…"**_

Sirius lay back and listened. He wondered if Remus's mother had played this to him when he was young – a tiny, non-werewolf Remus with huge amber eyes and a mischievous streak a mile wide.

"… **Babe…I got you babe…I got you babe…I got flowers, in the spring…I got you to wear my ring…"**

He rolled onto his stomach and pulled out the rest of the tapes, sorting though them and wondering what the significance of each one was for his friend.

"… **And when I'm sad, you're a clown… and if I get scared… you're always around…So let them say your hair's too long 'cause I don't care…with you I can't do wrong…"**

Sirius frowned as the words of the song broke through his mental reverie. They sounded so familiar and he couldn't shake off the feeling that someone had said them to him before.

"When I'm sad, you're a clown," he said out loud, trying to remember. "When I'm scared you're always –" he broke off as it suddenly came to him. His mind was dragged back to that night in the library when he had Remus trapped beneath the table in the library – sick, frightened, believing he was going to die.

"Tell me, Moony! Please?" he had begged, and he had been sure he'd seen Remus's resolve break. He had been sure Remus was finally going to tell him his secret. But his friend hadn't told him a thing. All he had said was

" _Sirius, you don't know how much it means to me – everything you've done for me. No matter what, you're always there for me. When I'm sad, you act like a clown to cheer me up. When I'm scared, you're always around to help me fight my demons."_

Sirius slowly reached out and pressed the 'rewind' button on the machine and then 'play' again, his heart hammering – although he wasn't really sure why. It felt as though he were on the edge of discovering something vitally important, and that if he could hear those words again he would know what it was.

"…  _ **I'm sad, you're a clown… and if I get scared… you're always around…So let them say your hair's too long 'cause I don't care…"**_

Sirius sat back as the song continued to play and tried to organise his thoughts. What did it mean? Was it coincidence? Much as he told himself it had to be, Sirius couldn't help thinking of Remus standing alone under the moon, singing his Muggle songs and wishing on blood and moonshadows. To Remus, Muggle songs were almost sacred. They were a connection to his past and his mother. Sirius was sure it couldn't have been by chance that Remus had used those exact words, and then later chosen this particular tape when Sirius had made him pick out his favourite music. So what had Remus been trying to tell him in his own worried, eccentric way?

"…  **I got you to kiss goodnight, I got you to hold me tight… I got you, I won't let you… I got you to love me so…"**

For the second time, Sirius felt his stomach leap up into his throat and he jabbed at the 'rewind' button again.

"… **I got you, I won't let go…I got you to love me so…babe…I got you, babe…I got you babe…"**

"I got you, I won't let go," he whispered aloud to himself, pressing a shaking finger on the 'stop' button. "What the  _hell_ is going on here?"

" _It's the full moon. You'd best let me go."_

" _Never! Don't you remember Moony? You said it to me once. I've got you. I won't let go."_

"Damn it, Remus," Sirius groaned now, feeling frustration welling up inside him. "Why do you always have to be so bloody cryptic? What did you want me to work out from what you were saying?"

And then it came to him in a flash of understanding. Remus didn't  _want_ him to work it out. He hadn't expected Sirius to work it out at all. He had never dreamed Sirius would have the patience to fix the tape player – even if he had thought of it at the time. What he had said to Sirius on that night had been a last minute decision; something he had felt was important to say in case he died.

 _He didn't say it for me_ , Sirius realised, his breath catching in his throat.  _He said it for himself. It was something he needed to tell me, but that he didn't want me to understand. It was another one of his own private little rituals – like singing to the moonshadows. It was something intensely personal._

" _Damn_ , I'm good," Sirius whispered out loud. "And as usual, I'm going to work out your secret, Remus Lupin."

He pressed 'rewind' on the tape player and listened to the song again. What could he tell about the song? It was about a young couple. It was old. It was about two people who no one thought would work out together. It was…

"…  **I got you to kiss goodnight, I got you to hold me tight…I got you, I won't let go…I got you to love me so…babe…I got you, babe…I got you, babe…"**

… It was a love song.

Sirius's mouth fell open and his brain struggled to comprehend what it could mean.

It was exactly like that day in second year when he had come to the realisation that Remus was a werewolf. So many things – little niggling things that never quite made sense – began to fall into place.

Remus hated Sirius going out with girls, and yet he didn't really care that what James was doing to Bronwyn was much worse.

Post-moon Remus – a Remus with all his shields down – very obviously liked Sirius the best of all his pack.

A discussion with Lily Evans – a discussion where she had discovered a new, big, secret of Remus's – had left the werewolf so horrified and off-balance that he had nearly killed himself the next full moon.

The discussion with Lily occurred on the same day that Sirius had asked Rebecca out.

Everything pointed in one direction, and Sirius could not avoid coming to an obvious conclusion. Remus liked him. No – more than that. Remus fancied him; was attracted to him in a definitely non-platonic way. Remus was gay and he fancied Sirius.

"Bloody hell," Sirius whispered, feeling as though his whole world was falling away. He had no idea how to react. Was he supposed to be disgusted? Should he confront Remus? Should he pretend he didn't know and ignore what he had discovered? Should he pity Remus's position – stuck alone again in the knowledge that he was even more different than before and wanting to be with someone who was dating girls like they were going out of fashion?

He thought of Remus curled up on his bed while James and Sirius had watched helplessly; unable to comprehend what had upset him so much _. "And I_ want _their pity because it's almost like caring, but sometimes it's not enough."_  Remus had said, his voice full of self-loathing.  _"And sometimes I just want someone to stand up for me and say 'That's enough hurt for Remus. He's enough of a freak now. Leave him alone. Don't give him anything else to bear. He doesn't want hate or hurt or beating or even pity anymore, because he's tired now. Now he just w-w-wants to s-s-sleep."_

"Ah, Moony," Sirius murmured. He couldn't bring himself to feel angry or disgusted, only very, very sad. "You poor sod. The fates really do have it in for you, don't they?"

Sirius knew, then, what he would do. He would pretend he had not discovered anything. This was Remus's secret, and now he knew why his friend had kept it that way. Sirius would act completely normal. He couldn't condemn Remus for loving him a bit more than he should. He didn't care when it was a girl that fancied him, did he? Why should this be any different?

But Remus is a boy, some part of him said. It's not right. It's a perversion. It's wrong. Your family have murdered people for less than that in their time. But another, larger, part of him said, Exactly. When have your family ever been right about anything?

Sirius sat up and straightened his shoulders. He pressed 'stop' on the tape player again and ejected the tape, placing it carefully back in its box. Without really knowing why, he slipped that tape right into the bottom of his trunk, away from all the others.

"Sirius?" He looked up to see James standing in the doorway watching him. "What're you doing up here all on your own?"

"What does it look like?" Sirius answered, still distracted. He gestured to the tape-player and tapes that littered his bed.

"I dunno. Wanking to music?" James suggested.

Sirius made a face. "Is that all you think about?"

"Nope. Sometimes I think about Evans."

"I rest my case," Sirius said. "That  _is_ all you think about."

"I sometimes think about pranks and the Marauders as well," James protested.

"Oh Merlin, please tell me you don't wank while you do," Sirius begged. "I don't think I could cope with that as well right now."

"Of course not!" James looked disgusted. "Why would you think that?"

"You really don't want to know." Sirius gestured James over to his bed. "I fixed the Muggle tape-player to work in a magical environment," he explained. "I'm giving it to Moony for his birthday." Even as he said it, a part of him wondered how Remus would take the gift. Was Sirius accidentally leading him on? What had he actually done that caused Remus to fancy him in the first place?

Much to his relief, James didn't seem to find his choice odd. "Cool. Does it really work?"

"Of course it does," Sirius said. "What do you take me for?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Padfoot?"

Sirius grinned at the use of his new name. Remus really was a genius for thinking of it.  _At least I know I don't only attract the ditsy ones,_ he thought, contemplating the vast majority of his fan girls. "Do you want to hear something played on it?" Sirius asked James, feeling slightly more cheerful as his mind began to grow used to the idea of Remus's latest secret.

"I would, but not now. Moony'll be coming up in a bit. He's just gone with Pete to see Madame Pomfrey to have his scar-potion applied again. I guess you want to keep it a secret for now?"

"Yeah," Sirius gathered the tapes together and dropped them into the bag before placing them and the machine in his trunk. He looked up as James threw himself on his bed. "Do  _you_  reckon he's still acting a bit odd?"

"Well, he just whipped all our butts at Gobstones," James said, "So I reckon he's okay. I mean, he'll be sore with the scar-potion, 'cause that always hurts him, but other than that…" he shrugged. "Mentally? With Remus, it's hard to tell. But I still reckon there's something that's eating away at him that he's not telling us."

"Me too," Sirius murmured.

"Moony has too many secrets," James said. "It has to be unhealthy."

"Maybe he keeps them for a good reason."

"But why keep them from us? We're his mates."

Sirius looked away. "A good reason," he repeated.

The door of the room opened and Peter and Remus came in, the chubby Marauder supporting Remus who looked pale and sweaty as the potion went to work on his body.

"Hey Padfoot, Prongs." He nodded to the two dark-haired boys as Peter helped him to his bed. "You hear I beat everyone at Gobstones?" he asked Sirius, a proud smile alighting on his pain-lined face. "Even fifth-years."

Sirius looked into those amber eyes and felt a rush of compassion rise in him. It wasn't pity, because there was too much respect and care in what he felt. He could give Remus this praise. It cost him nothing, and he knew it probably meant a lot more to the other boy.

"I heard," he said. "They should have known no one can beat our Moony when it comes to things like that. Your reflexes are just too good."

Remus beamed at him and Sirius wondered how in the world he had not noticed how much his words meant to the werewolf before. He had never been particularly observant, but he had to have been walking round with his eyes shut to have missed that.

He glanced at James and Peter who appeared to think there was nothing odd about Remus's reaction.

"What were you up to here on your own?" Remus asked him, reaching under his pillow from his pyjamas.

"Wanking," James supplied.

"I was not!" Sirius said, blushing even more furiously that he would have before, because now he was aware of Remus's feelings for him.

"Really?" James asked, grinning. "Then what were you doing?"

"I was making your birthday present, Moony." Sirius ignored James with as much dignity as he could muster.

"You're making me a birthday present?" Remus's face lit up. "What is it?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. And that would be a pity, because it's really brilliant and you're going to love it."

"I will," Remus agreed, pulling himself to his feet and walking gingerly towards the bathroom.

"How do you know? I haven't given it to you yet."

"I always like your presents," Remus told him, his hand drifting up to the pendent that still hung around his neck. He stepped into the bathroom to change, shutting the door behind him.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was not as easy as Sirius had first anticipated; hiding his knowledge of Remus's feelings for him. Now that he knew they were there, he found himself looking for signs of them all the time, and - in spite of Remus's good acting skills – he glimpsed them more and more clearly as the days passed.

He noticed the way the Remus became quieter and withdrew into himself whenever Rosemary or any of Sirius's other female admirers was around. He noticed how Remus instinctively turned to him for advice or reassurance over anyone else – including James and Peter. He didn't miss the way that every positive comment or touch that he directed towards Remus caused the werewolf's angular, often pain-drawn features to light up from the inside – eyes almost glowing with happiness.

Sirius felt a little alone and lost. He wasn't sure how he should feel or react. He wished more than anything that he could tell James so that he had someone to talk to or advise him, but he didn't dare. Homosexuality was definitely a taboo subject in the Wizarding world – particularly in pure-blood families where it was of vital importance to maintain the magical line through the generations. He was not entirely sure what James's views were on the matter, but he refused to compromise Remus's friendships for the sake of his own peace of mind.

The solution came to him one evening when he glanced down the dinner table and spotted a flash of red hair as Lily left the hall with Alice – Frank Longbottom's new girlfriend.

 _Lily_ knew. She definitely knew. If Sirius hadn't been sure from the conversation she'd had with Remus at the beginning of term, their exchange in the Hospital Wing after the last full moon confirmed it.

"Lads, I'll see you later," he said, standing.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked, his gaze flickering to Rosemary at the Hufflepuff table. "I thought we were all going to play exploding snap in a bit."

"I'll be back later," Sirius assured him. "Just got to get something." He turned and hurried towards the main doors before they could ask more questions. He caught a glimpse of Lily's bright hair disappearing down the corridor that lead to the library. He hurried after her.

"Evans! Hey, Evans!"

She stopped and turned, rolling her eyes as she spotted him hurrying towards her.

"I need to talk to you," Sirius gasped, coming to a stop in front of her. "Bugger off, Richards," he added to Alice.

Lily scowled. "You have no right to talk to my friends like that! I have no desire to talk to you. Bugger off yourself."

"Sorry," Sirius said, making his eyes pleading. "I didn't mean it like that. Please, I need to talk to you. It's about Remus."

Lily paused and he saw the conflict in her expression. "He looked okay at dinner. He's not ill again is he?"

"No, it's not that. It's something else."

Lily looked undecided for a few moments before she nodded to Alice. "I'll meet you up in the common room. This had better be good, Black."

Alice reluctantly left, shooting suspicious glances over her shoulder at the two of them.

"Well?" Lily asked, crossing her arms and looking impatient. "What is it?"

"It's about Remus."

"Yes, you've said that already. Hurry up."

 _I have no idea what James sees in her – the prissy little witch,_ Sirius thought darkly. "Can we go to the library? I don't want people listening in."

"You're not coming on to me are you?" she asked with suspicion. "Because there's no way in the world I'm going to go out with a rude, arrogant brat like you."

"No, of course not," Sirius said. "I'd never do that to James. Plus I don't fancy you in the slightest. I don't go for stuck-up and snappish."

Lily scowled. "One more comment like that and I'm leaving. And I'd never go out with Potter. Even if he was the last man left on Earth."

"Fine. Library?" Sirius stood back and gestured with mocking politeness into the Library, while mentally making a note to tell James that Lily had referred to him as a 'man'.

Lily trailed him to an empty desk. "All right. What is it?"

"I …um… I know Moo – Remus's secret," he blurted out.

"I know perfectly well about the ridiculous nickname you've given him," she said. "And if this is another ploy to get me to tell you what his secret is, I'm not going to fall for it."

Sirius frowned. "Weren't you listening? I said I  _know._ "

"Fine; what is it?"

Flushing darkly, Sirius whispered, "I think he fancies me."

Lily froze, her mouth half open. If Sirius had any lingering doubts, they disappeared in that moment. Eventually she gave her head a visible shake and said, "No, he doesn't."

"Never go on stage, Evans," Sirius told her dryly. "Your acting skills leave a lot to be desired. If you're worried I'm going to hurt him or tell anyone, you don't need to. I've known for weeks. I just needed some advice, and you were the only person I knew who also knew. Plus you're a girl."

"Well observed," Lily snipped. Then she sighed. "That's not what I meant anyway. Much as I dislike you, I know you wouldn't hurt Remus, even over something like this. Maybe that's what he sees in you. God knows you have no other redeeming features."

"What did you mean, then?"

"I meant what I said – he doesn't fancy you, Black. He's in love with you."

It was Sirius turn to freeze now. "What?"

"He's in love with you. It's not some schoolboy crush like you have on your girlfriends or Potter has on me. It's proper all-out love. You of all people should know that when Remus does something, he never does it by halves. When he falls, he falls hard."

Sirius groaned and let his head fall against the table. "I don't know what to  _do!_ " he complained. "Can't you tell me what to do? You're a girl – how do I make him fall out of love with me?"

Lily pursed her lips and looked at him speculatively. "You want him to fall out of love with you?"

"Of course I do!" Sirius said impatiently. "I don't want the poor guy to be miserable and pining for the rest of his life! What else did you think I wanted?"

"I don't know," Lily said. "Maybe advice on how to tell him that you love him to bits and pieces as well, and want to be with him forever and have all his babies – or whatever the gay equivalent is. What would that be? Buying a farm together? Raising chickens? Starting a band? Heaven knows."

"What the hell are you talking about, you stupid girl?" Sirius stared at her in horror. " _I'm_ not gay! What on the whole of this damn earth made you think that?"

"Maybe I was mistaken," Lily said, not looking offended in the least. In fact, she looked a little amused. "It's a faint possibility."

"Damn right, you are," Sirius said, feeling, for some reason, as though he had just avoided being hit by an oncoming train. "Now help me come up with a plan."

"Okay," she said, sounding, to Sirius's mind, suspiciously agreeable. "What made you think he fancied you? Maybe if we start there, we can think of what you can do to… you know… reverse the process."

"Fine." Sirius sat back, stretching his mind. "Well, there was this song. A Muggle love song. And he said some words of it to me."

"That's it? And since when do you listen to Muggle music?"

"No, that's not it! That just made me realise that all the other things now made sense."

"What other things?"

Sirius scowled at her. "You know – the things he does. Like how he never wants me to spend time with my girlfriends, but he doesn't care about James's. When Rosemary's around, he always looks like he wishes he were somewhere else. And he always goes to me for comfort – you know – when he's sad or …or ill. Even when he's not really in his right mind from being ill, he always wants me around. And he always wants to be with me, or know where I am if I'm somewhere else. And when I compliment him, or say something nice, or touch him – in a friendly way, you know – he just…" Sirius searched for the right word. "…lights up."

Lily sat back in her chair, looking satisfied. "You know what made me think you fancied him also?"

"What?" Sirius rolled his eyes, wondering how long she would go on about her mistaken belief until she finally accepted she was wrong.

"It was because you never seem to want to spend time with your girlfriends. When you're with them, you always want to be somewhere else. Remember when Rebecca had a go at you in the common room? She said that Remus was the worst of the lot because you always had to know where he was and what he was doing and if he was working too hard. You would much rather be spending time with him than with her."

Sirius felt vaguely sick in his stomach at her words. "Remus is ill," he defended himself. "He needs his friends to look after him."

"And," Lily continued, as though he hadn't spoken, "she said that if you were worried or upset or something, you always went to Remus for comfort and advice, not her. It made her mad, you know. She said that was supposed to be her job."

"Remus is clever! We all go to him to get advice and stuff!" The oncoming-train feeling had returned and Sirius felt his heart-rate pick up. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with her? Hot bubbling fear and anger was building beneath his diaphragm, threatening to explode out at any minute.

"And here you are now," Lily continued, seemingly oblivious to his emotions, "the heir to the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black; a family that would put a person to death for smaller things than being gay – talking to a girl you don't even like in an effort to help out the boy who you don't love. And every time you say his name, or talk about how he needs you, your face just…" she left a dramatic pause, in the same place that Sirius had done as he scrambled for the right description, "… lights up."

Sirius stared at her, his mouth open, burning with anger and rage because how  _dare_ she,  _how DARE she_  accuse him of such things? He felt sick and disorientated, and suddenly he just wanted to be far away from her and her… her…  _LIES._

" _Screw you!_ " he yelled at her, slamming his hand down hard on the desk. "You know what?  _SCREW YOU!_ I don't have to listen to this. I came to you for help and if all you want to do is… is… tell  _lies_ about me, I'm going. So SCREW YOU!"

He stood up, flinging his chair back from the table with a clatter, stormed past the indignant Madam Pince and out of the library.

He left so quickly, he didn't see Lily sit back in her chair with a satisfied expression on her face, or hear her mutter, "Remus, you owe me big time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find this entire chapter reenacted by the Mischief Managers at the link below!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQgnoXpos48&index=8&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE


	42. Sweeper or Sweepee?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Note: This is the same event as in the last chapter, but from Remus's POV

_Whose woods these are I think I know._  
His house is in the village, though;  
He will not see me stopping here  
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

_(Robert Frost - 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening'')_

 

**REMUS:**

Remus had been getting very strong flashbacks of first and second year over the past couple of weeks. No matter where he was, or what he was doing, he could feel Sirius's eyes on him – watching him -  _staring_  at him, until Remus had to force himself not to flush or hunch under his gaze.

At first, Remus had been afraid that Sirius had discovered his secret; but Sirius's gaze wasn't revolted or angry; only very, very intense. Remus desperately struggled to hide any signs of his feelings from his friend's watchful eyes. Sirius was brilliantly intelligent, and – especially when it came to Remus – frighteningly observant. He couldn't risk slipping up. Not even once.

Lily had noticed Sirius's new (or old and re-hashed) occupation as well. Two weeks after the staring had begun, she pulled Remus aside after their Ancient Runes lesson and raised her eyebrows at him.

"What?" Remus said defensively. "Is there anything else about myself you're feeling inclined to inform me about?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Men - Honestly! And you say girls are touchy." She put her hand on his arm to prevent him from walking away. "Black's been staring at you a lot."

"You think I haven't noticed?" Remus shook off her hand. "The silly git has had his eyes glued on me for two weeks. I'm about ready to claw out of my own skin."

"I'd have thought you'd like having him staring at you."

Remus scowled. "Why the hell would I  _like_ him staring at me?"

"Well…" Lily appeared to flounder for the first time, surprised by his question. "You know – if he's staring at you, maybe he…" she lowered her voice, "… fancies you back."

Remus snorted. "Fat chance. He did this exact thing in first and second year - watching me and watching me until I slipped up and he guessed about my father."

"Yes, but…" Again the conversation appeared to be going in a direction Lily didn't understand. "Maybe if he stares at you enough he'll realise how cute and sexy you are and how much time he's been wasting on girls when he should have been sweeping you up in his manly arms and carrying you away into the sunset."

Groaning, Remus leaned back against the stone wall of the corridor and ran his fingers through his hair. "You're blinded by your idiotically romantic views on how real life works," he told Lily, glancing around the corridor to make sure they were alone. "You think it's all flowers and roses and declarations of undying love. It's not. Real life is watching your mother die and not being able to do anything about it. Real life is having a father who hates you so much he can't bear to look at you without reaching for a poker to burn you. Real life is being ill all the time;  _hurting_ all the time and… and… loving people you shouldn't. And it's the sad damn truth that you can't always rely on people to  _love you back_."

Lily pressed her lips together so hard they turned white and looked away. He felt a sudden stab of sympathy for her. It wasn't her fault she didn't know. He couldn't blame her for having a nice life, full of prospects and love, when he would be left by the wayside while his friends went on ahead.

"I'm sorry." Remus reached out to put his hand on her shoulder and dipped his head to try and look into her eyes again. "I shouldn't have said that. The truth is you were forgetting a few key facts. One: I am neither cute, nor sexy. Two: Sirius Black is straight. And three: If anyone was doing the sweeping-off-his-feet it would be me because I am – of course – manly and tough and a lot stronger than I look." He winked and forced his face into a grin.

Lily gave him a wavering smile back and sniffed. "You're also forgetting some key facts," she said. "One: no matter how much you try to deny it, you are both cute and sexy. Two: you have no real proof Sirius Black is totally straight. And besides – even  _I_  know he always makes exceptions for you. And three: In my lovely visual image of the sweeping-off-of-the-feet, you are definitely the sweepee."

Four Ravenclaw boys hurried down the corridor, pushed past them, and stampeded in the direction of the Great Hall fueled by the urgency of adolescent hunger. Remus stuffed his hands in his pockets and pushed away from the wall to begin walking in the same direction. Lily hurried to follow him.

"Believe what you like," he told her. "I know what I know."

"I'm going to help you," she said, her voice filled with characteristic stubbornness.

"Don't you  _dare_ ," said Remus, with a sudden, horrifying vision of soppy Valentine's cards being sent to Sirius by Lily on his behalf. The very thought of it was mortifying.

"Give me  _some_ credit!" Lily had apparently guessed the direction of his thoughts. "I  _can_ be sneaky, you know."

"I've not seen any evidence of it to date."

" _Hey, Moony!_ " Remus glanced around and saw Sirius and James behind them, jogging to catch up. Lily gave an exasperated snort and hurried on ahead to join a group of Hufflepuff girls who were coming out of the Transfiguration corridor.

"Were you talking to Evans?" James asked eagerly.

"No. We just enjoy moving our mouths up and down while looking at each other in imitation of gold fishes. It's part of our Ancient Runes homework."

"Ouch." James said. "What crawled up your butt and died?"

Remus shot his friend a disgusted look. "I was talking to Evans – you expected me to be in a good mood?"

James looked amazed. "You were talking to  _Evans_ , Remus. You should feel honoured and ecstatic."

"Hammered and apathetic, more like," Sirius said. "How're things going, Moony?"

"Fine," Remus said, fighting down the grin that threatened to slice his head in half, at the genuine care he could see in the other boy's eyes. He wondered if he had failed when Sirius studied his expression for a few seconds before giving his head a little shake and grinning back.

"Nice one. Let's go to lunch, eh? If I do without food any longer, I swear I shall faint, and then you, Mr. Moony, would have to carry me to the Great Hall."

"Naturally," Remus agreed, rolling his eyes. S _weepee indeed._

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Where's he going?" Peter asked, staring after Sirius as he made his quick exit from the dinner table.

"He's following Evans," James said, accusingly. "What does he want with her?"

Remus didn't answer, but he felt an ominous sinking in his stomach. Had Lily set up a meeting with Sirius? What was she going to tell him?  _Please let her keep her mouth shut,_ he begged silently to whoever up there was willing to listen.

He followed James and Peter morosely to the common room, trying to block out James's indignant commentary about traitorous gits, who were probably, even now, coming onto their best friend's girl. Peter was making vaguely sympathetic noises while attempting to wipe tomato sauce off the front of his shirt with the aid of his robe's hem and excessive amounts of saliva.

Curling up on the hearth rug in front of the common room fire, Remus ignored James's and Peter's attempts to get him to join in their game of exploding snap. His stomach felt tight and stretched, and he wished he hadn't eaten so much for dinner. His heart-rate wouldn't slow down to a normal rate either. What on earth would happen if Lily – with good intentions, but complete short-sightedness – told Sirius about his secret?

It seemed like hours before Sirius returned. Remus was still huddled uncomfortably before the fire, watching the flames through slitted eyes when the portrait door was flung open with a crash and loud protests from the Fat Lady. Sirius stormed through and stopped when he caught sight of Remus who had hunched up defensively on the floor. The dark-haired boy's face screwed up into a grimace and he swung around and carried on up to the dorms without a word. As he passed, Remus caught the scent of Lily on his clothes.

Remus thought he was going to die. He honestly believed so. The sharp pain as his already-hammering heart twisted viciously in his chest could only mean he was having a heart attack; and his scrunched-up stomach scrunched up even more, until he was forced to launch himself to his feet and run in the direction of the nearest toilets – the first year boys' – and fling the door open. He fell to his knees in front of one of the toilet bowls and vomited up everything he had eaten for dinner. The retching wouldn't stop. Even when the muscles of his diaphragm screamed in pain and his throat burned with acid, they continued.

Tears streamed down his face, though he couldn't have said if they were from the effects of his extensive vomiting or the giant, tearing ache at the memory of Sirius's twisted expression as he looked at him.

_He knew. Oh God, Oh Merlin! He knew, he knew! Lily told him and he was utterly revolted._

"Moony?" James's voice was tentative and Remus felt a light touch on his back. The retches eased and Remus leaned his forehead against the cold porcelain of the toilet seat and panted in pain and misery. "Great Merlin, Remus. What happened? Do you need us to get Madame Pomfrey?"

Remus gave a slightly hysterical, sobbing laugh. Madame Pomfrey couldn't heal everything. He shook his head without lifting it.

"I don't get it," Peter said. "It's not even near full moon."

"Moony's allowed to get normal illnesses as well," James pointed out. He looked at Remus again. "I thought you looked a bit off after dinner. Do you want to go up to bed?"

Remus didn't. He didn't think he could ever face Sirius again. But he couldn't sit all night in the first-year boys' toilets either.

James and Peter helped him stagger to his feet. He lapped thirstily from a tap, not caring how wolf-like he looked at that moment, then made his way up to the dormitory with James and Peter on either side, trying to avoid the questioning or sympathetic looks from the Gryffindors in the common room.

Sirius's bed-curtains were drawn when they entered the dorm.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

If Remus had any doubts about Sirius's knowledge of his secret, they disappeared over the next few days. Sirius avoided him at all costs, and when he did talk to him, he was short and distant. Remus felt as though his whole world was beginning to burst at the seams like an overstuffed pillow. Every harsh look or cold word cut into him a little more deeply. If he thought he'd felt bad before, it was nothing to how he felt now.

What made it worse was that Sirius was also taking out his mood on the other Marauders. It was not as bad for them as it was for Remus, but he could see the hurt and confusion on James's and Peter's faces whenever Sirius snapped at them. He knew it was his fault and the guilt weighed on him.

He gave up speaking for the most part, as any sign of his presence seemed to antagonise Sirius further, and he spent most of his time holed up in the Library, hiding beneath the tables, and trying to nurse the remnants of his happy memories with the Marauders. He knew it was over for them now. Hadn't he said to Peter it was only a matter of time before they turned around one day and saw him for the monster he really was?

He was a fool for believing it would last longer.

He knew Madame Pomfrey was worried. He had a werewolf's fiery metabolism that required plenty of food, but he couldn't bring himself to eat, and even though only three days had passed, the weight was dropping from him like liquid. When he went to her to have his scar-potion applied, Madame Pomfrey had actually looked frightened as she demanded to know what was going on.

He hadn't been able to tell her, though, and she hadn't been able to cancel her conference at St. Mungo's the next day to keep him in for observation. Her instructions to ask one of his friends to help him apply the potion were even more laughable than they had been before.

It was late one evening on the fourth day of that dreadful week when James found him beneath the table in the Library, curled into a ball on the floor, half asleep, with Hamish resting against his stomach.

"Moony?"

He didn't move or open his eyes.

"Moony, please talk to me. Did you and Sirius have an argument? What's going on? I don't understand. Please tell me!"

Instead of sitting on a chair, James crawled under the table with him and sat with his back against Remus's. Remus couldn't prevent his thin body from leaning into the offered warmth. He wondered what James would think if he knew the truth about what Remus was. Would he sit so close then?

"I'm worried about you, Moony," James whispered. "I mean, I'm worried about Sirius as well, but I'm more worried about you. It's like back in first year when you didn't talk to anyone."

He waited for an answer, but none came.

"Don't do this to me!" James begged, and his newly deep voice broke under the strain of his emotions. "You know what will happen. You'll die at the next moon if you keep this up. You know you will. Please don't die."

Remus stirred a little and sighed, stirring the soft fur on top of Hamish's head with his breath. "'The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.'*"

"What?" James turned and gripped his shoulder. "What does that even mean, Moony?"

"It's something my mother used to say. I wish she was here right now."

"What's going on? Remus, please tell me what's going on."

But Remus said no more, and James sat silently against him as he drifted off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *From the poem 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost. The words Remus quotes are often thought to be an allegory for someone longing for death.


	43. I Got You, I Won't Let Go

_Love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves,_

_and not to twist them to fit our own image..._

_otherwise we love only the reflection of_

_ourselves we find in them._

_(Anonymous)_

**SIRIUS:**

"What the hell is the matter with you, mate?" James finally demanded, after a week of putting up with Sirius's stormy mood.

The two of them were tramping back to the changing room in the rain after a miserable, muddy Quidditch match that was eventually cancelled when the players could no longer see the quaffle, let alone the snitch.

"I'm cold, miserable, soaking wet, and I have mud in places I didn't even know I had until they started chafing. What do you  _think_ is wrong with me?" Sirius snapped.

"I don't just mean now," James said. "For the past week you've been snapping at everyone. And you've been especially mean to Moony. He's retreated so far back into his shell, I think you've ruined all the progress we've made with him since first year. What did he do to upset you so much? I tried to ask him but he was under the table in the library and he wouldn't answer me - not with anything that made sense anyway. And I know Evans tried to talk to him too. He just runs away every time she comes near him."

Sirius felt a rush of guilt. He had been avoiding Remus ever since his discussion with Lily. Every time he was with the other boy, he heard Lily's mocking voice in his head:  _"You just…light up."_

For the first time since he had first laid eyes on the young werewolf at the age of eleven, Sirius could say that he had no idea how Remus was. He had been so involved in trying to squash down his own conflicting feelings, that he hadn't taken note of the effect it was having on the Remus. He suddenly wondered what his cold words and avoidance were doing to him, and when he thought about it, he could only come to one conclusion. Remus would be taking it incredibly hard. Merlin, he probably thought Sirius had discovered his secret and was disgusted with him!

He came to an abrupt halt and stared at James. "He wasn't talking sense? What did he say?"

"What do you care?"

"I didn't mean…I'm not angry with him. It was something else. I didn't mean to upset him. What's wrong with him? What did he say?"

"You're not  _angry_ with him?" James, who was usually so good-natured and slow to anger, seemed to swell furiously at Sirius's words. "You didn't even have a  _fight?_  Does he even  _know_ why you're angry with him?"

Sirius shrank back, eyes wide. "No... I mean... I didn't…"

" _NO_?" There was a jarring flash of white pain, and Sirius staggered back, sitting hard in the mud. His jaw was hot and throbbing from James's clumsy uncoordinated punch that, nevertheless, had the full weight of his anger behind it. Sirius was frozen in shock, clutching his jaw with one hand as he stared up at James. In all the years they had been friends, the other boy had never struck him.

James shook his wrist and winced a little in pain. He glared down at Sirius and gave him another small kick in the thigh. "He's going to  _die_  and it'll be all  _your_  fault!"

Sirius wanted to answer, but he was hyperventilating, his chest heaving and his heart racing. He couldn't look away from James's furious hazel eyes as he leant down until his nose was almost touching Sirius's. "Fix. It." He turned, storming away and into the Gryffindor changing rooms.

Slowly, Sirius rose to his feet. He glanced at the Gryffindor changing rooms, then turned and shakily made his way towards the Ravenclaw ones. He crept into the quiet showers and stripped out of his Quidditch robes, washing the mud from his body and hair as quickly as he could. His own clothes were still in the Gryffindor lockers, so he snagged a pair of old, black sports robes from the Ravenclaws' lost property cupboard that were a bit too small for him and shrugged them on, before heading back out again and up towards the castle. The rain had ebbed a little, so he was only slightly damp by the time he reached it in the quickly dimming evening light.

He headed straight to the library and began peering under tables.

"He's not here," a sharp voice said, and he swung around to see Madame Pince glowering at him. "And you're banned from the Library after your rude display with Miss Evans on Monday"

"Right. Sorry." Sirius turned and ran back out of the Library in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He knocked over a couple of second years as he threw himself through the portrait hole, ignoring their indignant yells as he headed up the staircase to the boys' dorms.

He slowed down as he approached the Marauders' room, until it was finally at a creep that he entered. The room was completely empty, but he glanced at the bathroom door and saw that it was shut. A look under Remus's pillow indicated that his pyjamas were gone, so it had to be him in there.

Sirius went over and pressed his ear to the door. He could just make out the sound of the shower turning off and the shower curtain being pulled back. He strained his ears and could hear muffled movement as Remus got dressed. It seemed to be taking a long time and Sirius frowned with worry. What was Remus doing? He had a sudden vision Remus's wand being carefully drawn up his slim arm, cutting deeply into his skin and through his veins. Would Remus do that if he was desperate enough?

There was a sudden crash from the other side of the door, along with what sounded like a mixture between a whimper and a growl. Without thinking, Sirius stood up and pointed his wand at the door. " _Alohamora!_ " The lock clicked and Sirius slowly pushed the door open.

Remus had his back to Sirius. He was leaning against the wall, tawny head buried in his arms and his shoulders shaking. He was dressed only in a pair of faded boxers and Sirius, for the first time, was presented with the sight of his lean, naked, back and legs.

It suddenly became very clear why Remus always kept his body covered. His back was criss-crossed with thin flat lines of silvery scars that stood out cruelly from his pale skin. They ran right from his shoulders to the waistband of his boxers, then out again and down his thighs. They were burn scars, Sirius realised, from the silver poker that John Lupin had used to torture him. And this was what they looked like after almost three weeks of scar-reducing potion.

"Oh, Moony," he whispered, barely above a breath. But it was enough. The werewolf spun round, instinctively dropping into a defensive crouch, his fingers curled into claws in front of him and his lips skinned away from his teeth. Sirius couldn't help taking a step back as they stared at one another.

Remus's front was even worse than his back. This was where Moony could easily reach during the full moon to tear and rip and scratch. These scars were not delicate, silvery lines, but jagged and raised up from Remus's smooth skin. They laced his body and arms and some of them looked fiery and red, as though they were still healing. The largest took up nearly Remus's whole shoulder and spread down the right side of his chest. The original bite, Sirius realised.

Remus's whole body was tensed and ready to spring. Although he was almost painfully thin, his bones were wrapped in wiry layers of muscle and tendon that gave the impression of feral strength – rather like one would expect from a half-starved wild animal.

It only took Sirius a few seconds to notice these things. A few seconds was all he had, because as soon as Remus saw it was him standing in the doorway, he let out a yelp and scrabbled around for his bath towel which he pulled over himself to hide his body.

" _Get out!_ " he screamed, his eyes flickering wildly, as though searching for an escape route.

"Moony, it's just me." Sirius's voice sounded choked and uncertain, even to his own ears.

"Please go," Remus begged, sinking to the floor and bowing his head into his knees.

Sirius crept forward and crouched in front of him. "Remus?"

"You know, don't you?" Remus whispered, his voice muffled. "You know my s-secret now. Lily told you. It's okay. I kn-now why you've been avoiding m-m-me. It's only fair that you feel d-disgusted. But please – go now. I don't want you to s-s-see me like this."

Sirius's stomach seemed to drop into his feet before lurching up again to lodge in his throat. His eyes were fixed on the curled form in front of him; hair still damp and standing up in tufts from the folds of the towel. A wave of protectiveness washed over Sirius so strongly it actually made him feel dizzy. It coiled up in his chest and squeezed around his heart painfully before dropping and filling his whole body with vicious, tingling heat.

It was in that moment that Sirius realised the truth. He loved Remus. He loved absolutely  _everything_ about Remus. He loved his wide, unsettling amber eyes and his tawny hair. He loved his cleverness and quick brain. He loved his reticence and his laughter. He loved every one of Remus's eccentricities: his addiction to chocolate, his bookishness, his desire to seek refuge under tables, his almost reverent regard for Muggle songs. He loved wild Remus, sneaky Remus, gentle Remus, frightened Remus, funny Remus… and all the other hundreds there were.

He loved everything that Remus was – including his scars, his insecurities, and the unwavering iron will that kept him going through everything.

The realisation of it washed over him in a tidal wave of emotion that actually seemed to rock his body. What the hell had he been doing with those girls?  _This_ was why he felt nothing when he was with them.

"Why don't you want me to see you like this?" Sirius managed to whisper, reaching out with a shaking hand to touch Remus's bent head. "I think you're brilliant."

The boy raised his head and stared at Sirius with a look of such bemusement and disbelief on his face that Sirius couldn't help a hysterical laugh from escaping his lips. "Evans was right!" He gasped, clutching at Remus's shoulder. "Damn that interfering, prissy, annoying, darling girl - she was right! I  _don't_ want to be with the girls. I want to be with  _you._  I want to keep you for ever and ever and raise chickens and start a band, or whatever the hell it is we're supposed to do."

"Raise chickens…" Remus still looked rather faint.

"Don't listen to that bit!" Sirius said impatiently. "Didn't you hear the rest?"

"Yes," Remus whispered. "But that was the bit where I got lost."

"So you got the rest?"

"No... yes... wait a minute, Lily accused  _you_ of being g-gay, too? What the hell is going through her head? What… what… just  _what?_ "

Sirius gave in and reached out to pull the shocked werewolf against him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. "I got you, babe," he murmured, directly into the Remus's wild hair. That chocolate-and-autumn-leaf smell filled his senses and he felt himself tingling all over. It was a new, wonderful, exhilarating feeling. "I got you, and I won't let go."

He felt Remus stiffen in his arms before saying in a very small voice; "I really am a complete failure at keeping secrets."

"Or I'm just a genius as working them out," Sirius suggested. "It helped that you actually picked out the tape with that song on it."

There was another short silence before Remus said, "Is this a prank?"

Sirius tightened his arms. "I promise on everything that has ever meant anything to me that this is not a prank. It's real, okay? I don't really know what on earth I'm doing, but that much is true."

Remus gave a little hiccough and shifted so his face was pressed against Sirius's neck. "I think you're b-brilliant, too."

"Well, obviously," Sirius agreed. "I  _am_ the great Sirius Black. What part of that is not brilliant?"

"I would say your immodesty, but I'm ashamed to say I even like that."

Sirius gave a watery chuckle of his own and pressed his nose against Remus's hair to breathe in his heady smell again. "What was that crash before I came in?" he asked, once he felt Remus relax a little in his arms.

Remus sighed against Sirius's neck, causing a shiver to run through him. "I was trying to put scar-potion on my back. I couldn't reach properly."

"Well, yeah. Not unless you've become an amateur contortionist in the last twenty-four hours."

Remus hunched his shoulders. "Don't tease me."

Sirius drew back a little, pressing Remus's head away from him gently so he could look into his face. "I'm sorry you thought I was disgusted with you. I'm really not. Not ever. I've known how you felt about me for weeks. I never… I never would have been that mean deliberately."

"I wouldn't blame you."

"And that's what makes it worse!" Sirius reached out to brush Remus's hair from his eyes. "You should have. I was a right wanker. You must learn a little meanness, Moony. Here now - let me help you put your potion on your back."

"No!" Remus shuffled back quickly, clutching his damp towel tighter to his body.

"Come on. Who else are you going to ask? James? Pete? Evans?"

"I'll do it myself."

Sirius raised his eyebrow and Remus flushed.

"I don't want you to see me like this," he said again, eyes pleading.

"I've seen it, babe." Sirius loved the way that Remus blushed even more furiously as the term of endearment. The flush spread right to his ears and down his neck, disappearing into towel he still had clutched round his neck. Sirius grinned. "I told you that blush was too cute for your own good. Look what you did – turned Sirius Black, the suave and debonair ladies' man, as gay as a blue banana."

"I d-d-d-d…" Remus gave up and ducked his head, still looking bright red.

Sirius took the opportunity to glance around for the scar potion. The bottle was lying on the floor beside the shower. "It's a good thing it's in an unbreakable bottle," he said, crawling over to pick it up. "Now take your towel off and turn around."

"No! I won't."

Sirius shuffled back to look into Remus's defiant eyes. "It you don't, the scars will go back to looking how they were."

Remus's face screwed up with conflict. "But I'm ugly," he said eventually, his voice barely above a whisper.

"No, you're not," Sirius answered. "I told you. You're amazing."

Remus's half turned his head away and closed his eyes.

"You are, Moony." From this close, Sirius could see the way Remus's dark lashes brushed against his cheeks and his tawny eyebrows arched smoothly over them. He could see the rosy remnants of the blush sweeping over Remus's angular cheekbones and the way his teeth bit into his lower lip in frustration. Sirius thought his ribs might crack, his heart was beating so hard. "Can I kiss you?" The question was out before he even had time to consider it and Remus's eyes flew open in amazement.

"What did you say?"

It was Sirius's turn to blush now, but he stubbornly repeated; "Can I kiss you?"

Remus's mouth opened, then quirked into a half-smile. "You want to kiss me?"

"Yes," Sirius said, his voice cracking with embarrassment. "But I won't if you don't want me to."

"Is this a fine example of suave and debonair Sirius Black?" Remus asked teasingly.

"Oh, forget it!" Sirius moved to pull away, but a quick hand snaked up out of Remus's towel-cocoon to catch the side of his face and turn him back. He just had time to catch his breath before Remus pressed their mouths together.

The kiss was clumsy and shy and damp, but Sirius suddenly realised exactly why Rebecca and Rosemary had always wanted to make out so often. Heat seemed to be rushing over him in waves and he was intensely aware of every place that their bodies touched. Tingles seemed to run from those areas and all over him, raising goosebumps and making him tremble. Remus's mouth was sweet and wet and Sirius just wanted to keep kissing him forever.

Eventually, when air became an issue, they pulled apart and stared at one another in rather embarrassed wonder. Remus's mouth was a little swollen and rosy and his eyes looked rather dazed. "Is it always like that?" he asked, voice trembling slightly.

"It never has been for me before," Sirius admitted. "I always thought it was a bit weird before, you know? That was just…"

Remus's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Am I a good kisser then?"

"You'll need lots more practice," Sirius declared, putting his nose in the air. "With a good tutor."

"Damn! So I've got to go and ask James to snog me then?"

"Remus!" Sirius was shocked and Remus threw back his head and laughed at his expression.

"I'm just kidding you idiot. I got you, I won't let go, remember?"

"I can't believe you just said that. Take your towel off so we can get this potion on before the other two come up. I think they're giving us time to make up." Sirius tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "Or make out in this case." Before Remus had time to react, Sirius shifted behind him and whipped the towel away from his slackened fingers.

"Sirius! Give that back!" Remus made a grab for it and almost fell over. Sirius reached out to steady him, hand closing loosely over the werewolf's narrow shoulder. His right fingers brushed against the original bite scar, and he noticed how the flesh there felt raised and slightly harder than normal skin.

Remus let out a shocked little yelp and shrank away from his hand.

"Does it hurt?" Sirius asked in alarm, moving his hand. Remus's head was bent and Sirius, who was crouched behind him, could see the ripples of tension on his back.

"Only w-when the potion is on," Remus said, his voice tired and resigned. "It's designed to try and break down scar tissue. It doesn't work so well on injuries caused by a werewolf's teeth." He shifted away. "Sirius, you don't have to do this. You don't have to touch my scars. I know they're gross."

"They're not," Sirius said stubbornly. "They're just another part of you. They show how brave you are and how much you've been through."

"They might show that," Remus agreed, "but that doesn't mean they're not gross."

"I don't think they are." Sirius reached out to lightly brush one of the burn scars on Remus's back and the shoulders in front of him hunched defensively. The burn scar felt different to the bite one. It felt shiny and very, very smooth – almost stretched. "I like your scars. They're very cool and animally."

"Oh, and me being 'animally' is a good thing?"

"Well, it turns  _me_  on."

"Sirius!" Remus shifted away from his hand again. "Don't say things like that!"

"Why?"

"It's highly disturbing and I don't want to hear it."

Sirius laughed. "You've got to stop blushing like that or I'll be fighting the girls for you." He picked up the bottle of potion and opened it. Poring a dollop onto his hand, he smeared it carefully over one of Remus's scars. Immediately the scar grew hot and inflamed and he saw Remus tense in pain.

"I'm sorry!" Sirius jerked his hand back. "What's happening? It looks  _worse_."

"It's supposed to look like that," Remus said, his voice calm. "I told you – the potion breaks down scar-tissue. That hurts, but it makes the scars better."

"Why don't you just leave them? That just looks horrible and painful."

"I don't want to be a scarred monster for the rest of my life, Sirius. No more than I have to be."

Sirius sighed as he looked over the other boy's body. He couldn't blame Remus for his insecurities. Sirius thought Remus was gorgeous in a starved, feral kind of way, but he couldn't deny that the scars looked vicious and painful against his would-be smooth, pale skin. If Remus wanted to be rid of them, Sirius would help him in any way he could.

"Please finish this," Remus begged. "I'd rather not drag it out, if that's okay."

Wordlessly, Sirius began applying the potion to Remus's back as quickly as he could. The scars flamed red and by the time he had finished, Remus was shaking in pain. Sirius now realised why Remus always needed help back from the hospital wing after Madame Pomfrey applied the potion.

"Have you done the front?" He asked, smoothing a gentle hand over the last scar.

"I did that before you came in. It was only my back I couldn't reach."

"Let me help you into your pyjamas," Sirius said, standing up and helping Remus to his held up the pyjama bottoms and Remus clutched his shoulders for support as he stepped into them. Then Sirius helped post his arms into the sleeves of his top and buttoned it when Remus's hands proved to be shaking too much to do the task himself.

Remus gave a short laugh as he leaned against Sirius tiredly. "Madame Pomfrey does that with a spell. One flick of her wand and I'm dressed. She wouldn't tell me the spell though, because apparently it can be reversed to take someone's clothes off and she said teaching it to a Marauder is asking for full-scale, involuntary nudity of all Slytherins in an overblown end of term prank."

"She has a point," Sirius said. "Though a houseful of embarrassed, naked Slytherins wouldn't be worth the psychological scars I don't think. Can you imagine it - naked Snivellus!"

There was a knock at the dormitory door. "You guys kissed and made up yet?" James's impatient voice demanded from outside.

Sirius sniggered and even Remus managed a wan smile through his pain.

"I don't think we should tell them about…you know… us," Sirius whispered. "I'm not sure how they'll take it and I'm not ready to lose all my friends."

"I know," Remus answered. "Nor am I."

"Hey!" James yelled, hammering louder on the door. "Can you hear me?"

"You can come in!" Sirius yelled back, helping Remus back to his bed and depositing a quick kiss on the end of his nose that made him blush again.

The door opened and James and Peter came in, looking apprehensively towards the two of them. They looked relieved when they saw Remus and Sirius sitting side-by-side on the bed.

"You didn't even hurt him," James said to Remus, looking a little disappointed. "I'm glad you didn't kill him, but you could have at least beaten him up a bit. He deserved it."

"Don't worry," Remus said, squirming back on his bed and climbing gingerly under the covers. "I will have my wicked way with him as soon as the scar potion has worn off."

Sirius choked. "Moony!"

James grinned, completely oblivious. "That's my little werewolf. Give him a bruise for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a snippet of this chapter acted out by the incredibly talented Mischief Managers, please follow the link below!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03JKY3Ofvqw&index=9&list=PLnrcXMm5sJV7yYWq7nmnhLk6fw2IGmxsE


	44. Flying Mutt Hits the Bed

_Perhaps love is like a resting place_   
_A shelter from the storm_   
_It exists to_   
_give you comfort_   
_It is there to keep you warm_   
_And in those times of_   
_trouble_   
_When you are most alone_   
_The memory of love will bring you home_

_('Perhaps Love' - John Denver)_

**REMUS:**

Remus didn't know it was possible to be as happy as he was when he lay in bed and thought about the fact that Sirius liked him.  _More_  than liked him. The evening kept replaying itself in short, vivid snippets. Sirius holding him as he said, "I  _do_  want to keep you forever!" Sirius pressing his face against Remus's hair. Sirius murmuring, "I got you, babe." Sirius smoothing his hands gently over Remus's terrible, disfiguring scars in a way that was so tender that Remus  _knew_ he really didn't feel any revulsion. Sirius kissing him…

Remus rolled over and pressed his face into his pillow, grinning widely to himself. He had always thought rather scornfully of authors who described kissing as electricity, but that was really what it felt like. Static electricity running up and down his body, raising goose bumps on his arms and triggering his heart so it hammered so hard against his ribcage that he thought he might be having a heart attack. But in a really, really good way.

And at the same time it had been warm and comforting and somehow  _right_. The Sirius in Remus's secret, guilty fantasies had been as suave and debonair as Sirius had mockingly described himself; sweeping Remus up in his arms and kissing him with practiced skill. However, the real, live Sirius who had blurted out 'can I kiss you?' and flushed in embarrassment was the one that Remus loved.

" _You want to kiss me?"_

" _Ye_ _s, but I won't if you don't want me to."_

"Moony?" Peter's voice emerged from the darkness of the bed beside him. "You okay?"

Remus rolled over onto his back again. "Of course. Why?"

"You're giggling madly into your pillow."

There was an amused snort from across the room. "Really?" Sirius's voice asked. "What  _can_ you be thinking about you naughty werewolf?"

"Sirius!"

"I can actually  _hear_ you blushing, Moony," James said, sounding delighted. "Just who  _were_  you thinking about?"

"I'm not talking to any of you! Good night!"

"Remus fancies someone," James crowed. "Our little Moony fancies someone! Who is it? Can we set you up?"

"I'm not setting him up with anyone," Sirius said quickly.

"Aw! Come on, Sirius!"

"No, I'm not going to help you embarrass him."

"Fine, fine. You can set me up with Evans instead."

"It's not going to work," Remus said, glad to be latching onto a new subject. "The girl just doesn't like you."

There was a brief silence, then, "Oh Merlin,  _that's_  who you fancy, isn't it?" James sounded horrified. "What are we going to do? I can't go out with her if you want to as well! This is dreadful! Terrible!"

"James, calm down," Remus interrupted. "I promise - on my honour as a Marauder - that I don't fancy Lily."

"Really?"

"Yes, you fool," Sirius said. "He's been trying to avoid her all week. Where have you been?"

There was another short silence, then James said, "Oh no!"

" _Now_  what?" Sirius asked in a long suffering voice.

"She fancies  _Remus_ , doesn't she? That's what she was asking you! And you didn't want to tell me to protect my feelings."

"What?" Both Sirius's and Remus's voices were incredulous.

" _No,_ James," Remus said patiently. "I can pretty much guarantee that Lily does not fancy me."

"How do you know?"

"Because she knows who I  _do_ fancy, okay?"

"What? Who? Why does she know and I don't?"

"I didn't tell her, you idiot, she guessed. Why do you think I've been avoiding her? She keeps harping on about it. And before you ask, I'm not telling you lot either. I like to keep at least  _some_ things secret."

"She  _is_  disgustingly good at guessing things about people," Sirius said moodily. "The worse thing is that she's usually right. I bet she's a gloater too."

"What?" James shoved aside his curtains and cast  _lumos_. Remus, who had neglected to shut his curtains in his exulted state earlier, blinked in the sudden light. "What did she guess about you, Black?" James demanded. "What's going on here? Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something?"

"Yeah," Peter agreed. "Me too."

"Yeah," Remus said. "What's a gloater?"

"Someone who gloats when they're right all the time," Sirius elaborated.

"I'm right all the time."

"Ah, but  _you_  don't gloat about it."

"Can we get back to the subject at hand?" James demanded. "Why has Lily been talking to all of you?"

"Not me," said Peter.

"She didn't really want to talk to me," Sirius said. "I sort of trapped her in the library and made her."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted her help with Remus's secret," Sirius explained. "And she wouldn't give it to me. Instead she got all insightful and started dissecting my feelings and stuff. It was horrible. I really don't think you're on to a winner with that one, mate. Maybe you should choose someone more accessible and less gloaty and right all the time. My Dad says you should never marry a woman who is right all the time."

"And you never take his advice, do you?" Remus questioned, just to be sure.

"Nope." Sirius pulled open his curtain and Remus saw him wink at him in the light of James's wand. "Never have, never will. But it's different with Evans. She's just scary."

"She's amazing," James said. "Stop being mean about her."

"You're only saying that because you're whipped," Sirius said.

"One of these days, you'll be whipped too, and then you'll know what it's like."

"I'll be whipped for someone who's whipped for me," Sirius declared.

"Lads," Peter interrupted. "Do we have to talk about this now? We have Potions first thing tomorrow and I need my sleep."

The rest of them subsided into silence and James's wand light went out. Just before it flickered off, though, Remus glanced up in time to catch Sirius blowing a flamboyant kiss at him while James's back was turned.

There was a wide grin on Remus's face as he lay back and tried to go to sleep again.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was not until he and Sirius wished to have a bit of time together alone that Remus realised how inseparable the Marauders were. It was almost unbearable to be with Sirius so much of the day and not dare to touch him or even look at him as much as he wanted to.

The day after the incident in the bathroom, Sirius dumped Rosemary with an expression of great relief before running up to where Remus was waiting, tugging him round the corner and into a secret passage where he proceeded to kiss him so soundly that Remus feared he would never be able to walk again.

Remus couldn't help feeling a little sorry for Rosemary when he saw her crying into her friend's shoulder in the Transfiguration corridor a little later. He knew what she had lost and he was determined that he would not do the same.

"I'm glad you two made up," James said, three blissful days later, when he and Remus were the first to the dinner table. "It was dreadful when you two weren't talking to each other."

"Believe me, I know," Remus said, tucking into his casserole with great gusto. "Remind me never to do it again."

"What did you argue about?"

Remus paused and glanced at James. "We didn't argue."

"Well, why were you mad at each other?"

Remus sighed. "I wasn't mad at him. I wasn't even entirely sure why he was angry."

"Did he tell you?" James asked, frowning.

Remus turned back to his food and mixed it with his fork. "It was about … his girls." It was  _almost_ the truth.

James sat back and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Because Moony didn't like them?"

Remus shrugged. "It's over now, anyway."

"Remus." James's voice grew serious. "You can't keep making him dump them. One of these days he'll want to… you know… get married and have a family or something, and he won't be able to if he never goes out with anyone."

"I didn't  _ask_ him to," Remus said defensively. "In fact, I told him not to. I said he should stay with her if she makes him happy, but he said she didn't. I didn't make him do  _anything._ He did it on his own."

"But he  _knew_ you didn't like them."

"Who said I didn't like them?"

James just looked at him and Remus ducked his head.

"Look," James turned back to his dinner. "I'm just trying to look out for the two of you. I don't think you can just ignore stuff like this when it comes up. It's one of those things that'll come back to bite you later if you don't do something about it now."

"We're not ignoring it, Prongs."

"Well, it seems like you are to me. Sirius dumped Rosemary. That made you happy. End of story. It's not exactly a long term solution. What if he really, really liked her?"

"If Evans asked you out, would you dump her if we told you to?" Remus felt the first stirrings of annoyance rising.

"Well…no," James admitted. "But I would feel guilty. And Padfoot is…you know… different with you. You and him have a different sort of friendship than the rest of us. If he really liked her, he would still dump her if you asked him to."

"Well then he wouldn't like her  _enough._ " Remus turned to glare at James. "If he likes me more than her, then he can't really like her. Don't you see? What you're saying doesn't add up!"

"I'm only trying to  _help_. There's no need to snap at me!"

"Does he  _seem_ unhappy about having dumped her?" Remus demanded. "Does he?"

"Well…" James thought about it, then sighed. "No."

"How does he seem?"

"He seems pretty happy," James said reluctantly. "Happier than he was when he was going out with her."

"Well then maybe," Remus said, in a gentler tone, "he didn't want to be going out with her, but felt that he should. Maybe he's glad of an excuse to stop."

"But…" James's face screwed up with conflict. "How could he not want to be dating?"

"We all have our reasons for doing things," Remus said.

"There are too many secrets among the Marauders," James said. "We never used to have secrets."

"Yes we did," Remus corrected him. "There have always been secrets. It's what our friendship is built on, isn't it? Secrets and secrets and secrets. Generally mine, actually."

"Secrets and secrets and secrets," repeated James, looking a little deflated. "Mini-you said that as well."

"I'll tell you them all one day, Prongs. Just not now. Look, there's Sirius and Pete."

"Alright, lads?" Sirius said, as he and Peter slid into the seats opposite them. "You okay, Moony? You look a bit off."

Remus felt Sirius's foot nudge his calf and smiled.

"Fine," he said. "Talking about secrets and girls."

"Girls, eh?" Sirius's eyebrows rose. "Who's caught your eye?"

Remus winked at him. "You know perfectly well that's a secret."

Sirius grinned, his foot sliding up to press against the sensitive spot behind Remus's knee. "Want me to set you up?"

Remus felt his breath catch in his throat a little. He jumped in surprise when there was a burst of laughter from a few seats down the table. Both he and Sirius swung round to where Lily was watching them with a look of delight on her face.

"You owe me one, Remus Lupin!" she called.

Remus scowled at her. "I don't owe you anything you interfering little witch!"

She just laughed again and turned back to her friends.

"What's she talking about?" James demanded.

"Who knows?" Remus said. "Girls - Honestly!"

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Wake up, birthday boy!"

Remus grunted as something large and heavy landed on his bed and almost catapulted him out of it.

"…mm…ger'off, P'dfoot…" he moaned, putting his head under the covers and curling into a defensive ball.

"But it's your  _birthday_!" Sirius wriggled under the covers as well and peered at him. "Don't you want presents?"

"I  _want_ to sleep in," Remus said, waking up properly so he could glare at Sirius.

"Come on Moony!"

"Go away." Remus rolled over so his back was facing Sirius.

"But I want to give you your birthday present. I've waited ages!"

A warm hand slipped under his pyjama top and rested on his waist, the fingers gently following the path of one of his scars.

"Sirius!" Remus squirmed away from the hand as his body reacted in a way that he definitely didn't want James or Peter knowing about. Instead of stopping, Sirius shifted closer and began tickling him, causing Remus to yelp and wriggle even more.

"S-s-stop!" he gasped.

"Will you wake up?"

"No!"

Remus grabbed at Sirius's hands, pressing him away and causing him to let out an un-manly squeak of surprise as he fall off the bed, dragging Remus and the covers with him. Remus found himself lying directly on top of Sirius, staring into a pair of mischievous grey eyes. He was also suddenly presented with irrefutable that Sirius had been enjoying their closeness just as much as he had. His breath caught in his throat and lodged there. Sirius slowly raised one thigh directly up between Remus's legs and grinned when Remus let out an unintentional whimper. Remus felt a hot, fizzy tremor run through his whole body and an answering one from Sirius.

"Lads? What on earth are you doing?"

Remus had never been so glad of his copious amounts of bedclothes in all his life. Thankfully, the sight of Peter's chubby face staring bemusedly down at them from his bed also took care of another problem rather swiftly. There was nothing that broke an arousing moment as much as Peter's earnestly worried expression – one that greatly resembled anyone else's constipated expression.

"I hate to break it to you, but the position you're in right now looks kind of dodgy," James added, from where he was sitting up in his own bed.

Remus hurriedly rolled off Sirius and sat up. "Blame him," he said. "I was innocently sleeping and the next thing I know –  _bam!_  – flying mutt hits the bed."

"Hey," Sirius complained. "Watch who you call a mutt."

"So, Padfoot," James said, shooting a teasing grin at his partner in crime. "The girls weren't enough for you. You had to come on to our Moony instead."

"Oh yes," Sirius said gravely. "You know how I go for the wild, sexy ones. Moony and I are having a secret, sordid affair behind your backs involving plenty of snogging, declarations of our undying devotion and back massages."

"Sirius!" Peter made a face. "It's too early in the morning for your warped sense of humour. Besides, I think poor Moony is going to self-combust if you carry on."

Remus raised his hand to his flaming cheeks and glared at Sirius.

"Poor Remus," James said. "And it's his birthday as well. Ignore Padfoot, mate. The Black family insanity was just making a brief appearance."

Remus felt a touch of indignation at that comment. "Are you saying I'm not wildly sexy?"

"Don't listen to him," Sirius said consolingly. "Those pyjamas you're wearing just exude wild sexiness."

Remus glanced down. "Ah…" he glanced up at James. "You may have a point."

"'Course I do," James said. "Even Sirius couldn't pull off 'sexy' in tartan pyjamas."

"I could pull off 'sexy' in tweed dungarees and carpet slippers," Sirius protested. "Don't you think, Moony?"

"I'm not answering that one," Remus said. "On grounds of insanity."

"Yours or his?" James asked with interest.

"Take your pick."

"Since we're all awake now," Peter interrupted. "You can open your presents." He pointed to a small pile of wrapped parcels on Remus's trunk that hadn't been there the night before.

"Where did all those come from?" Remus asked in bemusement. "You lot didn't spend that much on me, did you? You know it makes me uncomfortable."

"We know that, Moony," James assured him. "They're not all from us."

"They aren't?" Remus went over and began sorting through his presents, reading the labels. He wasn't very surprised to find that the largest, most elaborately wrapped one was from Sirius. Others were from James, Peter, the Anders, and – to Remus's surprise – Lily and Frank Longbottom.

"But I never even really talk to Frank outside lessons," he said, picking up the wrapped box and giving it an experimental shake. His sensitive nose picked up the scent of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

James shrugged. "But you're nice to him in lessons. And he gets worried about you when you're off being 'ill'. Always asks after you."

"And there's one from Lily."

"Evans?" James peered over his shoulder. "What it is with her being interested in you?"

"I don't know," Remus said. "It's not like I encourage her."

"Open it," James ordered.

Remus gingerly pulled off the wrapping paper and a small silver box dropped into his lap. He opened it and peered inside. There were two chains, each with a silvery pendent (not real silver, Remus was relieved to note) in the shape of half a willow tree, that fit together like two jigsaw pieces. On a small card stuck to the top of the box, Lily had scrawled a note.

_Dear Remus,_

_This is a present for you and your special someone. When you put the two pendants together, they just… light up. I know you're mad at me for interfering, but I can't help it when it's that sweet. When I saw these, I couldn't resist._

_Have a happy birthday, and come and talk to me about things if you need a friendly ear._

_Love,_

_Lily_

Sirius let out a snort as he read the note over Remus shoulder. "Interfering little busybody," he muttered. "You should send them back, Moony."

"She's just trying to be nice," James said. "You know girls. They always want to set you up if they find out you fancy someone. Why don't you just let her set you up with your mystery girl, Moony? She's obviously dying to."

Remus closed the box carefully and put it aside. "It's more complicated that that. You know that, James."

"You do get an awful lot of jewelry for presents," Peter said.

"Only two things," said Remus defensively, his hand moving up to touch the pendent he had received from Sirius such a long time ago.

"That's still two more than the rest of us."

"Leave him alone, Wormtail," James said. "It's not like he asks for it."

"Sorry, Moony," Peter said meekly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know, Pete," Remus sighed. He opened Frank's present next, then the Anders's. Neil and Angela had sent him a book on recent advances in spells for healing difficult wounds and a giant box of Angela's famous chocolate brownies.

"Mine now," Peter said eagerly, and Remus obediently pulled the paper off his present. Two slabs of Honeyduke's finest and a rolled up muggle poster fell into his lap. When unrolled it, it revealed an aerial view of a pine forest that swept over the peaks of two mountains and plunged into the deep valley between them through which a silver river ran. The sun hung low in the sky overhead, just on the point of setting. Remus thought it was one of the most beautiful pictures he'd ever seen.

"Wow, Wormtail," he breathed. "That's really… just wow."

Peter shrugged, looking pleased. "I saw it and I thought of you. You said you needed posters for your room at home and this one was just really peaceful. I thought it might be something nice to look at post-moon."

"I used to collect potions ingredients with my mother in a forest like this," Remus said, staring at the picture as he remembered. "It's nice to remember the good times like that."

"Hurry up, Moony," James said impatiently. "You can look at them all after they're opened."

Remus smiled and put the poster aside, reaching for James's present and pulling off the paper. More chocolate and a very ragged-looking book fell out.

"It's second-hand," James said apologetically. "I couldn't find a better copy. It's been out of print for decades. The Ministry didn't like it because the spells could cause a bit of trouble if the wrong people got hold of them. It was no mean feat getting this copy, I can tell you. I had to pretend to be my father and order it by post."

"What is it?" Remus asked, picking it up and turning it over.

James grinned. "A book on magical cartography," he said.

"Carti-what?" asked Peter.

"Cartography. Maps and things," James elaborated. "There's spells in there to properly bring maps alive. The Ministry disapproved because they could quite easily be used to make maps that would aid criminals in breaking into places, or spying on people and invading their privacy. I reckon no one can complain about Moony having it. He's got a moral streak so wide he practically has to build a bridge over it."

Remus felt a huge grin begin to spread across his face. He opened the book reverently and flicked through the pages, his eyes alighting on spells that set his imagination on fire. "This is utterly  _awesome_ , Prongs," he murmured. "Do you know what I can  _do_ with spells like these? I can do moving staircases, hidden rooms, living things like trees… Look! I can even do  _people_. This is just… wow…" He turned another page. "I might have to get you and Sirius to help with some of the charms and things."

"Anything you need, Moony," Sirius said. "Now open mine."

Remus agreeably reached for Sirius's present and pulled it into his lap. His mouth fell open when he opened it to reveal the tape-player that Sirius had bought over the previous Christmas holiday.

"I can't take this! It's yours."

"No it's not," Sirius said easily. "I bought it for you. I have no use for it, do I? Turn it on."

"It won't work here."

"Yes it will. I fixed it with charms. It took ages without you to help me look in books and things."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "You altered it to work in a magical environment? That's illegal, you know."

"Yep. Turn it on, Moony."

Remus suddenly realised how Sirius must have heard 'I Got You, Babe'. He didn't know why it hadn't occurred to him to wonder how Sirius had been listening to Muggle music before. He reached out and pressed the power button, then 'play'.

"…  _I'm being followed by a moonshadow. Moonshadow, moonshadow. Leaping and a hopping on a moonshadow. Moonshadow, moonshadow. And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my lands. Yes, if I ever lose my hands, hey… I won't have to work no more…"_

"Oh, Padfoot…" Remus whispered, unable to think of anything else to say.

"It was nice to hear the whole thing," Sirius said, sitting down beside Remus on the bed, but not daring to take his hand. "I had only ever heard it in snippets before that when you sung it. It makes me think of –"

"Blood and moonshadows," Remus finished with him. "I know. Me too."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"We got the house elves to make you a cake," Peter told Remus later that evening as the four Marauders lounged around on 'their' seats in front of the common room fire.

"You did?" Remus's stomach growled in anticipation. "What kind?"

"What kind do you think, you chocoholic?" Sirius teased. "Want to come down to the kitchens with me and fetch it?"

Remus knew he was the only one who understood the extra meaning in the invitation and felt a shiver of delight and excitement run through him. "Yes, please."

"It's your birthday," Peter protested. "You shouldn't have to go. I'll go if you like."

"No, that's okay, Wormtail. I want to go. I haven't been to the kitchens for ages, and I'd like to thank the elves."

"Thank the elves," James said, rolling his eyes. "That's such a Moony-comment."

"C'mon then," Sirius said, levering himself out of his armchair and reaching out to haul Remus up off his chosen place on the hearth rug in front of the fire. They climbed out of the portrait hole and headed down towards the kitchens under James's invisibility cloak.

"The one behind the mirror?" Remus suggested quietly. "That's on the way."

"Eager, are we?" Sirius wound his arm suggestively round Remus's waist.

"Aren't you?"

"Mmm," Sirius turned his head and pressed a light kiss to Remus's temple. "I've been resisting you all day. It's not easy when you're looking so hot and cuddable. I thought I might kill Pete this morning when he interrupted our fun."

"I don't look cuddable!" Remus hissed indignantly. "Aside from the fact that there is no such word, I'm a werewolf. We're not naturally snugly.  _And_ it's a good thing Pete  _did_  say something or he and James might have got an eyeful of something that would have surprised them a lot."

"You  _are_ cuddable," Sirius insisted. "A bit pointy, but very snugly. Most of the time anyway. Sometimes you're all wild and feral instead, and believe me, I'm not complaining either way."

"Pointy!"

"Yes. You are quite pointy. You don't eat enough."

"I eat plenty. Especially chocolate which is fattening."

"Hmm…true," Sirius said. "You should sell werewolf-ism as a brilliant diet idea for chubby girls. You know some of them would actually think it was worth it?"

"Right up until their first full moon," Remus said grimly. "And it's lycanthropy."

"What is?"

"'Werewolf-ism'. Its official name is lycanthropy."

"Huh. Sounds like that Muggle science for studying people you were trying to explain to me the other day," Sirius said.

"That would be Anthropology."

"I'll take your word for it. You're the vocabulary-genius. Ooh, look! There it is. Come on."

Remus allowed himself to be pulled into the secret passage behind the mirror and muttered " _Lumos!_ " while Sirius pulled the mirror shut behind them. His wand-light illuminated the passage that led to Hogsmeade, and Remus squinted down it as he leaned back against the wall.

"I heard there're signs of Death Eater activity again," he commented. "I read it in  _The Prophet_. You reckon we should tell Dumbledore about this passage? If we can get to Hogsmeade from here, they could get here from Hogsmeade."

"No," Sirius said straight away. "It's  _our_ passage. Besides, if Dumbles is as all-knowing as he thinks he is, he'd know about it already."

"I don't think he thinks he's all-knowing," Remus said. "Just a-little-bit-more-than-us-knowing."

"Who cares?" Sirius moved closer to Remus and lifted a hand to trace down the side of his face. "We didn't come here to have philosophical discussions about Dumbledore. It's ruining the mood."

"What mood?" Remus asked a little breathlessly. It was odd feeling the contrast between the cold stone wall at his back and the hot, fizzing heat of Sirius pressed against his front.

"Are you going to talk all evening?" Sirius whispered against his neck. "Or shall we do something more fun?" He licked Remus's neck pointedly causing the werewolf to utter a happy whimper.

"Mmm… I love it when you do that."

"Kiss me," Remus demanded, reaching up to guide Sirius's mouth to his own.

Sirius enthusiastically obeyed, one hand running down Remus's side as his other carded through his tawny hair. Remus wound both his arms around Sirius and pulled him as close as possible. These moments happened too irregularly for his demanding teenage hormones, and he actually felt drunk on Sirius every time the other boy kissed him.

Remus wasn't sure how much time had passed before they heard footsteps approaching down the corridor on the other side of the mirror. He  _did_ know that he had never been this aroused before and that Sirius had been doing some very interesting things with his mouth and his hips that Remus did  _not_ want interrupted.

"Horace?" said Professor McGonagall's muffled voice from just outside the mirror.

The two Marauder's froze, staring into one another's eyes in alarm. Surely she couldn't know about the passage? Neither of them dared to move a muscle in case she heard them.

"Minerva?"

They both relaxed marginally as Professor Slughorn's voice replied to Professor McGonagall's and a new set of footsteps approached.

"I've been looking for you since dinner," Professor McGonagall said, a little tartly.

"I've been talking to the headmaster," Professor Slughorn told her. "He's thinking about working to strengthen the wards on the school now that Death Eater activity is on the rise again. You can't be too careful."

"Well, I received a floo message for you from Brian Gravvy. He knows that you're often looking for the more obscure ingredients around this time with the seventh year NEWTs coming up and he just wanted to let you know that he would be setting up his stall in Hogsmeade Square next week Friday if you needed any."

"He's late this year," Professor Slughorn said. "I already bought my ingredients from Diagon Alley – at an extortionate price, I might add."

"Well, he asked me to pass on the message," Professor McGonagall said. "Now, I'm on duty tonight, so I must be off to find any wandering miscreants."

"Of course," Professor Slughorn answered. "Good evening, Minerva."

"Good evening."

Their footsteps moved away, heading in opposite directions and out of hearing even for Remus's sensitive ears.

"That was bloody close," Sirius murmured.

"You're telling me," Remus agreed. "Come on, we'd better get going before the others wonder what happened to us."

"I suppose so," Sirius huffed. He pushed himself away from Remus reluctantly. "Anyone coming, Moony?"

Remus pressed his ear to the door. "Nope."

They crept out from the passage and swung the invisibility cloak over their shoulders again before heading down towards the kitchen.

"Pity we can't go and buy any of those potion ingredients," Sirius commented softly as they approached the picture of the fruit bowl. Remus tickled the pear so it swung open to reveal the kitchen.

"Yeah. Only potion masters are allowed to buy them." Remus smiled as the house elves welcomed them enthusiastically; their squeaky voices shrill as they tugged the two boys over to where the cake was displayed.

"If only we could get him to buy them for us," Sirius said. Then he froze and a smile began to form on his face.

"What?" Remus demanded. "You are aware that the Imperius curse is illegal, aren't you?"

"Polyjuice!" Sirius exclaimed. "Slughorn's  _not_  going, but the bloke that owns the store is expecting him."

"Padfoot," Remus said tiredly. "Where on earth would we get ingredients for  _Polyjuice_ potion? That's our whole problem, remember? Lack of ingredients. Plus I heard it takes a month to brew, which would be too long."

"He has some ready-made," Sirius told him, his grin widening. "I heard some sixth-year Ravenclaws talking about it in the corridor yesterday. He was showing them examples of all sorts of complicated potions including Polyjuice. James and I were considering nicking some so we could sneak into the Slytherin common room and play pranks."

Remus felt a slow smile beginning to form on his own face. "You know, it  _might_ just work."

"I  _am_ brilliant, you know."

"Preaching to the choir, Padfoot."

"Well then, let us, by all means, go down and preach my brilliance to other, less-enlightened Marauders. Got the cake?"


	45. A Promise on a Marauder's Honour

_"Some people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said._

_"Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway. That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway."_   
_(John Green - The Fault in Our Stars)_

**SIRIUS:**

Four days after Remus's birthday, Sirius and James entered the common room after Quidditch practice to find Peter and Remus waiting for them in their seats by the fire. It was full moon that night, and Remus – who was particularly susceptible to cold before and after his transformation – was curled up under a blanket in an armchair with his wand in one hand, his book of magical cartography in the other, and his map of Hogwarts on his lap.

"Alright, lads?" Peter said, looking up from his Care of Magical Creatures homework. "Good practice?"

"It was okay." James threw himself onto the sofa and groaned as his tired muscles protested. "They're working us hard. If we don't win the next game against Ravenclaw, we'll lose second place for the House cup. There's no way we're going to make first anyway. Our seeker is as bad at seeking as Moony is at making potions. Thank Merlin she's leaving next year and we can find someone new."

Sirius perched on the arm of Remus's chair and peered over the werewolf's shoulder. "You working?"

"Just on the map. Not proper work. I got the spells all sorted for the moving staircases and secret rooms. Will you help me cast them?"

"At some point," Sirius said. "Not now. You shouldn't be working now. You should be conserving your strength for tonight." He reached out and plucked Remus's wand from his hand.

"Hey! Give it back."

"Come on, Moony," Sirius said. "For me?"

Remus turned his pale, pain-lined face to Sirius and scowled up at him. Remus's features always looked more angular and feral around this time, so the scowl was very effective. Sirius, however, just raised an eyebrow and Remus sighed. "Fine." He closed his book and folded up the map. Then he held out his hand and Sirius passed him back his wand.

"You're like an old mother hen, Padfoot," James observed from where he lounged on the sofa.

Sirius flicked a rude sign in James's direction without looking at him and picked up Remus's map, opening it out on his lap. It was drawn in black ink and – in true Moony style – was perfect in every detail. Remus's neat, precise handwriting labelled each room, and every wall, stairway and corridor was measured exactly (a lot of creative lying and more than one confundus charm had been employed over the past few weeks to prevent people from questioning them too closely as to why they were wandering round the castle with a magical tape measure and notebook).

Sirius felt a warm weight against his side as Remus leaned against him and peered down at the map as well, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers through Remus's ruffled hair.

"You'll have to check over it first," Remus said. "To make sure I haven't made any mistakes."

"It looks good," Sirius assured him. "Very neat and precise. I can't see anything wrong with it."

"We can name it and put a password on it, so only we can read it." Remus's tired face lit up as he explained. "And there's this really tricky spell you can do that takes a kind of print of your personality – like a magical photograph or something – and stores it in the map so if someone who doesn't have the right password tries to get in, the map will insult them in the way that you would have."

"That," James said, sitting up and grinning a very Marauder-esque grin, "is the most brilliant thing I have ever heard. We could call it the 'Marauder's Map'."

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," Sirius said grandly, "purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers are proud to present…The Marauder's Map!"

"That's good, Padfoot." Remus scrabbled round for his quill and stole a bit of Peter's homework parchment. "Let me write it down."

"And we'll need a password," Peter said, kneeling up on the floor to see the map. "Something Marauderish."

"How about 'I am using this map to perform mischief,'" said James.

"Or 'I am planning on being incorrigible'," Sirius suggested, recalling the accusation that had been directed his way more than once over the course of his life.

"I would never remember that," Peter said. "I don't even know what 'incorrigible' means."

"'I solemnly swear I'll use this map to prank Slytherins.'" Sirius winked at Remus who rolled his eyes.

"I like 'I solemnly swear', though," the werewolf said, writing it down.

"'I solemnly swear I am about to cause mischief,'" Peter offered, his chubby face screwed up in thought.

"'I solemnly swear I am up to bad things,'" Remus suggested.

"'I solemnly swear I am up to no good,'" James said.

The others looked at him, grins emerging on their faces.

"I like it," Sirius said. "Simple, but with so very much potential."

"'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'," Remus said, writing it down. "Don't let me lose this bit of parchment." He glanced out the window at the darkening sky. "Or – you know - eat it or anything."

"I'll look after it," Sirius said, taking it from him. "You'll have to go soon."

"I know. Believe me. You lads still up for a raid on Slughorn's polyjuice potion tonight while I'm indisposed? It's almost Friday and we'll need it by then. I got a piece of his hair off his robes last lesson. It's falling out so fast it wasn't even hard."

"Don't you worry, Remus," Peter said. "We've got it covered. You just focus on recovering quickly so you can come with us to Hogsmeade for the ingredients."

Remus stood up, leaning on Sirius's shoulder and Sirius felt the other boy's muscles spasming in protest as they prepared for the transformation.

"You going to be okay?" he asked, squeezing Remus's hand under the cover of their school robes.

"As always," Remus smiled tightly at him. "See you on the other side." He pulled away and walked to the portrait hole, climbing through it with great care. Sirius felt worry stab through him and lodge in his heart. Now that he was even closer to Remus than before, the thought of him alone in the Shack preyed on his mind all the time. Some of his emotions must have appeared on his face because when he glanced up he saw James's hazel eyes studying him.

"Soon, Padfoot," James said, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Soon we'll be able to go with him."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Stupid, stupid,  _stupid!_ " Sirius raged, as he, Peter, and James hurried towards the hospital wing. "Why didn't we just take the long way round?"

It was early evening of the next day, and the midnight raid for polyjuice potion had not gone well. They had acquired the polyjuice potion all right, and had been heading back. It was a long way from the dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, so they had decided to take a short cut through one of the new secret passages they had discovered while measuring the castle for the map.

It was not a secret passage in the normal sense. If you tapped a certain brick three times with your wand, a ladder emerged that took you up two floors and saved a long roundabout route on the moving stairs. Unfortunately, it meant that they had to remove the invisibility cloak for a short time and it was their very bad luck that Filch happened to be passing by with his satanic kitten in tow as they emerged from the floor of the Charms corridor.

The incident had resulted in detention at break and lunch that day, as well as for two hours after school. The professors were taking security very seriously in light of the new Death Eater threat. The only thing the three Marauders had to be thankful about was that neither the shrunken vial of polyjuice potion, nor the invisibility cloak, had been discovered on them.

Now, Sirius, James, and Peter burst into the Hospital Wing at something close to a run. Madame Pomfrey emerged from Remus's room at the back looking harried and flustered and when she spotted them she seemed to swell up like a rapidly inflating balloon.

" _Where_ have you been?" she demanded. "He's been completely hysterical all day waiting for you to come! You  _promised_ you would!"

"We were in detention," James admitted, shrinking away a little, even though he was a head taller than her.

" _Detention!_ " Instead of calming her, the news seemed to make Madame Pomfrey even more furious. "You were wandering round getting  _detention_  while your friend was  _suffering_ alone all night and all day? He should be recovering his mind by now, but he's been so worked up by you lot not being here, I have no idea when he'll come round."

Sirius had never felt so guilty in his life. The thought of child-like Remus waking up and searching his empty room for his pack was heartbreaking.

"Please can we go in?" he begged Madame Pomfrey, his eyes on the door to Remus's room.

"You'd better!" she snapped. "Don't let this happen again."

The three of them sidled meekly past her and into the private ward. Sirius peered in and saw Remus sitting hunched in a little ball on top of his covers with his back to them, shaking with sobs in the dry, empty way that children do when they've been crying for a very long time, but have become so worked up, they are completely unable to stop.

Sirius hurried over to the bed and Remus glanced up. When he saw Sirius he let out a shaky wail and flung himself at him, causing Sirius to sit back hard on the bed with a shivering, crying armful of werewolf.

"Sorrysorrysorry!" Remus wept, soaking the shoulder of Sirius's robes.

"Why are you sorry?" Sirius asked. This Remus raised such completely different sentiments in him than normal Remus. He felt a violently instinctive urge to protect this child-like form of his – what? Friend? Boyfriend? They had so much more than those names could encompass.

"From what I can gather," Madame Pomfrey said tiredly from the doorway, "he thinks he did something to upset you and that's why you didn't come."

"Oh, Moony - It wasn't your fault," Sirius said. "I promise."

"We had detention," James explained, from where he and Peter were sitting beside the bed.

Remus turned his head to he could look at James and Peter without lifting it from Sirius's shoulder.

"Prong, W'mtai'," he said, sniffling and holding out his hand towards them. "Pack."

The two of them reached out and awkwardly held the offered hand.

"S'right, mate," James said. "We're sorry we took so long."

Remus gave a little hiccough buried his face against Sirius's shoulder again. "Moony bad?" his asked in a little muffled voice.

"No," Sirius said firmly. "Moony's good. Moony's very good. You didn't do anything bad."

"Moony chew bed," Remus whispered in a guilty voice.

"The bed at the Shrieking Shack?" Peter asked. "No one cares about it, Remus. You can chew it all you like."

After a while the sniffling began to cease and Remus started to relax in Sirius's arms. His breathing grew slower and his head drooped against Sirius's neck.

"Finally," said Madame Pomfrey, appearing at the doorway again to check on them. "He hasn't slept at all since he woke up this morning. It's been a nightmare. I'm sorry I shouted at you boys. It's just that you formed this pack for him and now he relies very strongly on you. I honestly don't know how he would cope if you stopped being friends with him."

"Not going to happen," Sirius said firmly.

"Are you okay like that?" she asked, frowning in a worried way when she saw how Remus clung to Sirius like a limpet. "I know it must be awkward for you to have a fifteen-year-old boy climb into your lap like that."

Sirius's arms tightened protectively. "He's not. Technically he's like a little kid right now. I don't mind."

She shot him an odd, assessing look and Sirius groaned inwardly. Women and their damn insight into people's emotions! Thankfully she said nothing and disappeared again muttering something about changing bedclothes in the main ward.

"She gave you an Evans-look," James said. "All observey and insightful."

"Ooh! I'd hate to have that look directed at me." Peter shuddered.

"Bloody women," Sirius muttered.

"What was she working out, Padfoot?" James asked, his eyebrows quirked.

"How the hell do I know?" Sirius asked. "Half the time they work it out before I do."

"She's amazing, isn't she?"

"Eew! James that's horrible!" Peter said, inching his chair away from him.

"Not Madame Pomfrey, you wanker - although she's probably only in her late twenties, you know. I meant Evans."

"One track mind, this one," Sirius said, nodding towards James.

"I think about other stuff too," James protested.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Er…" James screwed up his face in thought. "Marauders. Quidditch. Food. Sex. Anigmagi. Annoying Snape. Presents. Christmas. Holidays…"

"Pretty much the same as Sirius, then," Peter commented. "It's like the same brain in two bodies."

"I think about lots more than that!" Sirius protested. "I'm really deep underneath. And I don't think about Evans at all, except in a homicidal way."

"Good," James said. "Because you know she's mine."

"I don't want her," Sirius assured him.

"Well, who do you want?"

"I'm not pining uselessly and unrealistically over anyone," Sirius told him, quite truthfully. The person he wanted was in his arms right now, breathing softly against his neck and tickling his cheek with tousled, tawny hair.

"It's not useless. One day she'll give in."

"Yeah sure," Sirius said. "And you have lots of messy-haired, green-eyed babies with glasses and bad tempers."

"My babies will be awesome," James said, sticking his nose in the air. "And you'll  _have_  to like them, because you'll be their godfather."

"Will I?" Sirius said brightening up.

"Yep. And Pete and Remus as well. Though I think I read somewhere that werewolves aren't allowed to adopt children, so it might not be official."

" _What?_ " Sirius felt hot anger boil in his chest. "Why not?"

"Why do you think? You know what people are like."

Sirius felt Remus stir against him and eyelashes tickled his neck as his eyes opened. The arm that had been resting loosely around his waist tightened a little. Remus was awake and - judging by the little star design he'd just traced onto the bare skin where Sirius's school shirt had ridden up – in his right mind and taking advantage of the position they were in by keeping very still so the others wouldn't know it. Sirius felt a little shiver of forbidden delight that they were flaunting their secret so openly without James's and Peter's knowledge.

"I think it's mean how people treat werewolves," Peter said, oblivious to the silent interaction between his friends. "What if one really wanted a baby but couldn't have one for some reason?"

"They wouldn't care," James said. "Because they're close-minded, short-sighted, prejudiced gits at the Ministry."

"Yeah," Peter agreed. "I heard that they arrested a little old witch living in some village because she charmed her cat pink to match her curtains and they thought the Muggles would notice."

"You could do it with muggle hair-dye just as easily," Sirius said. "They use chemicals and stuff. I read about it in my Muggle studies book and I was considering trying it on Snape."

The conversation continued for almost half an hour, meandering from one random topic to another. Sirius only had part of his mind on it. Most of his attention was focused on the delightfully warm, sleepy boy in his arms who was tracing soft patterns onto his skin while Sirius tried not to blush.

Eventually, it had to end, when Madame Pomfrey peered around the door to tell them it was time to to leave if they wanted to get back to their dorm before curfew.

Sirius shifted Remus away from him a little and gave him a gentle, but unnecessary shake. Remus stirred – more obviously this time – and pulled away to blink sleepily at his audience.

"You all there, mate?" James asked.

"Um…yes. Unless I lost a limb along the way that I haven't noticed yet. Time to go, yeah?" Remus stifled a yawn that looked real and shifted to the edge of his bed, reaching into the cabinet for his school robe to pull over his pyjamas. He paused suddenly, looking rather horrified, "Was I crying? I was, wasn't I?"

"It wasn't your fault," Sirius hastened to assure him. "We got in detention and didn't come to see you. You thought we weren't coming because you'd done something wrong."

"I  _hate_ this!" Remus said savagely, slamming the cabinet shut again. "I feel so stupid!"

None of them knew how to answer. There was nothing they could say to comfort him.

"One of these days," Remus continued, pulling on his cloak roughly, seemingly unmindful of his injuries. "One of these days I'll find Greyback and tear his life from him with my teeth, just as he took so much of mine!"

"Remus, please calm down," Madame Pomfrey said, looking distressed. "Here - drink this before you go."

She held out a vial of potion and Remus glared at it before sighing and gulping it down. "Sorry," he muttered after a while, avoiding their eyes.

"Nothing to be sorry for, mate," James said with forced cheerfulness. "Let's get back to the dorm."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was late Friday evening and almost completely dark outside. Sirius felt unusually nervous as they crept down the tunnel behind the mirror that led to the alleyway in Hogsmeade. So much rested on what they were about to do, and if they were caught, they would receive a lot worse than a few detentions as punishment.

It had been decided that James - as the best actor - would take the polyjuice potion that would disguise him as Slughorn. Right now, he stumbled along in front of Sirius dressed in the unflattering, tent-like robes that their professor preferred.

Unfortunately, the invisibility cloak no longer covered four, or even three of them very successfully, so they decided that Peter would accompany James to the stall in case it all went wrong and they needed to become invisible very quickly, while Sirius (who was too tall to fit easily under the cloak with the equally tall James) and Remus (who was the best at keeping watch with his extra senses) would be on the lookout for trouble from the shadowy protection an alley near the stall.

They reached the end of the tunnel and James took a deep breath, pulling the small vial of potion out of his pocket. "Now remember, there's not much here. I'll only be Slughorn for about twenty or twenty-five minutes at the most. We have to get there and get out in a hurry, okay?"

The others nodded and James pulled the cork out and gulped back the potion in one go. For a moment, nothing happened, and then he began to swell up, growing rounder and rounder until he barely fit in the tunnel anymore.

"Does this robe make me look fat?" he asked in Slughorn's distinctive voice.

"Just hurry up, you git!" Sirius hissed, trying not to laugh. James handed him his glasses before tapping the bricks to open the doorway to the alley.

They hurried out, Sirius, Remus, and Peter keeping to the shadows under the cloak to prevent people from seeing the bits of them that weren't quite covered. They headed as quickly as they could towards the square where temporary stalls were set up. The stall for rare potions ingredients had been set up outside the existing Hogsmeade apothecary.

"Keep watch in that alley over there," James whispered. "It's right by the stall, down by the side of the apothecary.

"I see it," Remus whispered back. "Pete, take us there under the cloak. Keep to the shadows. Drop us off, then go and stand as near to James as possible the whole time he's buying the ingredients. He might need to disappear fast. Sirius and I will stay in the alley and keep watch for trouble. Go James."

Slughorn's portly figure waddled off in the direction of the store and the three of them sidled round to the alley.

"…for my seventh years," James was saying as they arrived and Sirius and Remus slipped out from under the cloak, keeping to the shadows. "Here are the quantities I'll need."

"Go to James, Pete!" Sirius hissed, giving the chubby Marauder a shove.

Peter moved away and Sirius shrank further back into the shadows beside Remus. He reached up to touch Remus's shoulder and felt that the werewolf was very still and tense. "Relax, Moony," he whispered. "Don't wind yourself up."

"The smell of the alley is too strong," Remus whispered back. "We're next door to a bloody apothecary! The smell of potions ingredients is completely taking over everything else."

"We'll just have to watch with our eyes then," Sirius reassured him. "It'll be okay."

Remus didn't relax, so Sirius moved behind him and wound his arms around his narrow waist, resting his chin on Remus's shoulder as he scanned the crowd for anyone who could get them into trouble. Remus let out a little sigh and leant into the embrace, relaxing marginally as Sirius dropped a quick kiss into his hair.

"I'm glad you came this year," the store owner was saying, as he handed packages over to James who shrunk them and stored them in his pockets. "I wondered if you would because I'm later than usual."

Sirius jerked his head as he spotted Professor Sprout's chubby figure going into a shop on the opposite side of the square. He nudged Remus who nodded to show he had spotted her too.

"I got some things at Diagon Alley," James said to the stall owner. "But the prices are extortionate, so I was glad to hear you were here."

Sirius couldn't help smiling as James twisted the real Slughorn's words perfectly to fit the situation. The messy-haired Marauder really  _was_ a superb actor.

Remus tensed suddenly in Sirius's arms and tilted his head towards the alley behind them.

"What is it?" Sirius whispered in alarm.

"I can feel someone watching us. Hush."

Sirius froze himself and strained his ears. He could hear nothing but he could tell by the way Remus's muscles were rippling with tension that the werewolf still sensed someone behind them. He slowly slid his wand from his pocket.

"Can you hear them?" he breathed into Remus's ear.

"Four," Remus answered, "Moving closer."

"Bugger, bugger, bugger!" Sirius muttered. "We can't go out into the square now. What if Professor Sprout saw us?"

"Let me go," Remus said, squirming a little in Sirius's arms.

Sirius obeyed and Remus shifted in front of him, facing the darkness of the alley in that supple, defensive crouch Sirius remembered from when he'd scared the boy in the bathroom.

"Are you going to fight us, boy?" a man's voice said from the deeper shadows further into the alley. "We could see you and your perverted little lover outlined clearly against the light. We know what you are. We don't like your kind. A poison on our society."

"Our kind?" Sirius asked, hand sweaty on his wand.

"Fags," the voice spat. "Homos. You're disgusting." The words were slightly slurred and Sirius suddenly wondered if the man was drunk.

"We haven't done anything to you," Sirius said. Remus didn't move a muscle. Sirius could just make out his crouched outline and the way his head tilted towards the voice in a very canine way.

"You don't have to. We can see you're from Hogwarts. You're contaminating our schools."

"Remus? Sirius?"

Sirius let out a soft groan as he heard James's breathless voice behind him. "That was a close one. It's a good thing Pete was right there when I changed. Are you ready to go?"

"There's more of you?" said a new voice, also male. "It's like a disease."

"Who's that?" Peter asked tremulously. "Who's in there with you?"

"Come on, Moony," Sirius stepped forward to grip Remus's shoulder, talking under his breath. "Let's make a run for it."

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " The spell emerged from the dark and hit him before he had a chance to react. His limbs locked and he toppled to the floor, unable to move a muscle. He heard yelps of shock from James and Peter and a furious growl from Remus. He saw the werewolf spring over his fallen body and launch himself at the unseen men. There was a surprised grunt and the sound of a body hitting the concrete.

"Damn, the little fag fights like a cat!" one of the men said. " _Lumos_!"

If his eyes hadn't been frozen open, Sirius would have blinked in the sudden light. Remus had been right. There were four men in the alley. Three of them were trying to pull Remus off another one who looked like he was suffocating. This was not surprising as Remus was straddling his chest and had both hands around his neck.

"I'll  _kill_ you!" he was growling. "I'll  _kill_ you for hurting him!"

"Stun him!" one of the men said urgently. "Let go, you little pervert! He deserved it! You both do – disgusting creatures!"

There were two flashes of red light. When Sirius's vision cleared, one of the men was down and stunned, the half-strangled one was gasping on the floor, and Remus was rolling out of the way of the second stunner. Sirius guessed that one of the spells had come from James under the invisibility cloak.

Remus leapt up again like a wild animal and slammed one of the two remaining men against the wall, while the other man froze as the back of his robe dipped in where an invisible wand was pressed to his spine.

"Don't move," James's voice said coldly. "If you dare hurt another of my friends, I swear I'll cast the killing curse on you."

The man who was pinned against the wall by Remus's slim form gave a strangled laugh. "Your friends?" he gasped, his eyes searching the dimly lit alley for the source of the voice. "You'll stand up for one of  _them_? Do you even know what they are? We  _saw_ them in the alley– cuddling together.  _Disgusting._  It was –"

He never got to finish what he was saying because Remus knocked him out cold with a fist that was too quick to even see.

" _Stupefy!_ " said James's furious voice and the other man slumped to the floor. The only one still conscious was the half-strangled one who had the good sense to lie very still and concentrate on breathing.

" _Finite Incantatum._ "

Sirius felt the spell leave his body as Remus knelt down beside him. "Are you okay?" he asked urgently. "Oh, Merlin, Padfoot – Please be okay!" Gentle hands felt his face, arms and chest.

"I'm fine, Moony. Really. Nothing hurts."

Remus let out a soft, keening sound and pulled Sirius roughly into a sitting position before hugging him tightly to his chest.

"Air is becoming an issue, though," Sirius gasped.

"Sorry, sorry!" Remus released him.

"Lads, we really have to get out of here," Peter's frightened voice said from under the cloak.

Remus pulled Sirius to his feet and the four of them hurried down the alley away from the square. "Keep away from people," James said. "There's no way the four of us can fit under here. Down here and to the right and then the left and left again to get back to our alley, I think."

The others followed him and to their relief, the familiar wall that led to the secret passage was just where he said it would be. Sirius tapped the right combination of bricks with his wand and they slid open to reveal the tunnel.

"Thank Merlin!" Peter whimpered, as they hurried down it and back to the school. "Remind me never to sneak into Hogsmeade again. Why do things like that always happen?"

Sirius had no idea how they managed to get back to the Gryffindor tower without getting caught. It felt like hours before they climbed, shaky and exhausted, though the portrait hole to their common room. They headed up to their dorm straight away and shut the door behind them.

Sirius collapsed onto his bed and groaned. "Bloody animagus potion. This had better work."

"Why did they attack you?" James asked, kneeling in front of his trunk and pulling the potions ingredients out of his pockets. Sirius froze at the question, his stomach lurching. He sat up slowly, glancing at the bed opposite to see Remus's pale face looking back. "I know it was something you did that made them angry. Why were they calling you those names? Why did he call you two perverts? And don't lie, 'cause I can see from your expressions that something's up." He climbed onto his bed and folded his arms stubbornly.

Sirius felt sick with nervousness. He was actually shaking as he glanced at James and then looked away. His gaze flicked to Remus who looked frightened and upset, but also resigned.

"Um…we…" Sirius searched for the right words, his stomach churning and his heart hammering. "We…Remus and I…we…we're…like…together."

The silence that followed was the longest one Sirius had ever lived through. It seemed to last centuries and he didn't have to courage to lift his head and see James's or Peter's expressions.

"Er…" Eventually James spoke, sounding incredibly uncertain. "Judging by the looks of sick terror on your faces, I'm guessing that by 'together', you mean like in a…um… 'going out', poofy, kind of way."

"What?" Peter's voice was thick with disbelief. "You mean…snogging and stuff?"

"Y-yes," Remus's said, his voice very soft. Sirius looked up to see him perched in the middle of his bed, his knees drawn up to his chest and his face deathly pale.

"Well…damn," James said blankly. "Just…damn."

"Good 'damn' or bad 'damn'?" Sirius asked, desperate for at least some kind of reaction.

"How long?" Peter asked.

"A w-while," Remus said. "Since that time w-when Sirius and I weren't t-t-talking, you know?"

"You weren't talking 'cause you were…going out?" James looked as though he were struggling to keep up with events.

"No, we weren't talking because Evans kept going on about me fancying Moony, and it was doing my head in." Sirius explained, "I didn't want to believe her, but I was –you know – feeling stuff around him, so I started avoiding him and he thought I was avoiding him 'cause I knew he liked me, so he got depressed and then you hit me and I went to say sorry, and he was in the bathroom looking so hot and stuff that I knew I  _did_  like him, and I asked him if I could kiss him and –"

"Okay, okay!" James looked slightly horrified. "I don't need all the details."

Sirius snapped his mouth shut and glanced towards Remus who had buried his face against his knees and refused to look up.

"Why's he doing that?" Peter asked, also staring at Remus.

Sirius clenched his hands into fists. "We don't want to lose our friends," he said softly, still uncertain as to how James and Peter were taking the news. "Have we?"

"Great  _Merlin_ , this is a lot to take in," James groaned, running his hands through his hair. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I don't know. Why  _didn't_ we, Moony? I mean this conversation has been so fun this far, I can't think why we didn't want to have it sooner."

"Sirius, don't," Remus whispered, raising his head. His expression was devastated. "Don't make it worse."

Sirius felt his heart clench. "Ah, Moony. I'm sorry." He climbed off his own bed and went to sit beside Remus, taking the boy's hand in his own and treating James and Peter to his most defiant stare. They both looked away.

"Is this what all that stuff with Evans was about?" James asked, studying his duvet cover so he wouldn't have to meet their eyes.

"Yes," Remus said. "She knew we…l-liked…each other, and she wanted us to get together. She said she just wanted us…well, me really – she doesn't like Sirius that much – to be h-h-happy." Remus pressed closer to Sirius and Sirius squeezed his hand. "And Sirius d-does make me happy," Remus admitted, his voice breaking on the last word.

Peter looked to James for direction and the bespectacled Marauder sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, before looking up to where Sirius and Remus were huddled together defensively. "You don't have to look so worried," he said tiredly. "We're not going to attack you or anything. You can't help who you like, I guess."

"That didn't seem to bother those guys tonight," Sirius muttered.

James frowned. "They were evil gits. You don't have to listen to anything they said. You're not perverts. Just…different." He hesitated. "Did they see you guys…um…snogging?"

"No!" Sirius and Remus said together. "We would never do that at such a stupid time," Sirius added. "We were keeping look out like we planned. But then Moony got all uptight because he couldn't smell any danger over the scent of all the potions ingredients, so I just put my arms around him to calm him down. And then he sensed someone behind us and it was those guys and we didn't know what to do because we couldn't go out in the square and be caught out of school. We saw Professor Sprout lurking about in the square."

"We should have guessed, I suppose," Peter said, obviously not having managed to progress beyond the fact that Remus and Sirius were together. "You guys have always hugged and stuff."

"Straight guys hug each other, too," James pointed out.

"Yeah, but not like these two do," Peter said. "They were always different."

"Story of my life." Remus sighed.

"Just don't make out in front of us or anything," James said. "I'd rather not be subjected to that."

"You're okay with us?" Sirius asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Would you dump him if I asked you to?" James flicked Remus a meaningful glance that Sirius couldn't interpret.

"No!" Sirius said, wrapping possessive arms around the werewolf and drawing him closer. To his surprise, his answer made both James and Remus smile.

"I told you he didn't really want his girls," Remus said.

"You  _didn't_ tell me it was because he had you instead." James's voice was very dry.

" _I_ told you," said Sirius. "On the morning of Moony's birthday."

"He did, you know," Peter said, grinning.

"Ack, don't remind me. I  _thought_ that position you two were in looked dodgy."

"Mmm…" Sirius smiled wickedly. "It  _was_ delightfully dodgy."

"Gross! I don't want to know. Let's talk about something else."

Sirius didn't care what they talked about. All that mattered was that James and Peter knew and they didn't mind. The Marauders had survived through the revelation of yet another damning secret.

 _We'll never break up,_ he thought, as the conversation turned to the newly acquired ingredients of the animagus potion.  _Not ever. The Marauders will be forever._

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Pete and Remus said they'd meet us under the willow tree by the lake," James said, as he and Sirius headed out of the Quidditch changing rooms after practice the next day.

"Good," Sirius said, stretching his aching muscles. "I can't believe they made us practice on a Saturday! That should be illegal. I ache in places that I didn't even know I had."

They passed a group of third year Gryffindor girls who had come to watch the practice – or at least Sirius and James who were  _at_ the practice. Sirius winked at one of them and she gave a high pitched giggle and went into a huddle with her friends.

"Does Remus know you still do that?" James asked, looking uncomfortable.

"Yep," Sirius said. "It's all part of the cover. I think he actually has a tally going on somewhere of how many girls fancy me. Trust Moony to turn it into a project."

"But…doesn't he  _mind_?"

Sirius frowned. "What part of 'cover' don't you understand? We  _have_ to do this! Do you even know the kind of trouble we could be setting ourselves up for if anyone found out about us?"

"It just doesn't seem right," James said. "If you guys are going to be…together…like that, you should be…loyal." He was blushing furiously by the time he had finished speaking and Sirius could see that the whole concept still hadn't quite sunk in properly. He felt a rush of fondness for his best friend. Even though James was obviously uncomfortable with the subject, he was determined that he would look out for his friends.

"I don't  _like_ having to keep it secret," Sirius told him. "If I could, I would tell the whole world how amazingly gorgeous he is – you brought up the subject, don't choke like that – but we  _can't._ All Moony has ever wanted was to be normal and fit in. He wants people to accept him, and this is just making it that bit harder for him to feel like everyone else.

"If people  _knew_ , can you imagine how he would be treated? They would judge him and they would always be watching him and saying horrible things about him behind his back. And then it would only be a matter of time before they watched a little too closely and saw some other strange things about him. Like how he's always ill at full moon, and how some of those 'abuse scars' look rather new. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

James looked away and said nothing.

"And it's not only him, Prongs. I'm scared for myself as well." It was strange how much effort it took for him to admit that.

"What do you mean?" James asked, looking up with narrowed eyes.

"The heir to the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black turning out to be a shirt-lifter? Think about it, James. Do you have any  _idea_ what my family would do to me?" Sirius gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "The Imperious curse would be the kindest thing on a long list of hexes too dark even to be labelled as 'Unforgivable' because the Ministry likes to pretend they don't exist.

"And they're all over the place. Practically every pureblood family is related to me in one way or another, especially the darker ones. The only reason  _you're_ not my second cousin or something is because our families have been rivals for so long. And let me tell you – there are a lot of those families out there who would do  _anything_ to find out such a juicy secret about the Black heir: Some would want to discredit the family; some would want revenge on me for being Gryffindor, or being first-born; some would want our family name to remain powerful even if it means the quiet removal of the Black heir from the equation."

Sirius hunched his shoulders as a shudder ran through his body. "And they're all here – in this school,  _watching_ me all the time. I can't afford to slip up. I can't afford to  _not_ wink at the girls. For me  _and_ for Moony - because the easiest solution to the situation might seem to be removing the one that 'corrupted' me in the first place, and I know I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him because of me."

Sirius glanced sidelong at James who had been looking paler and sicker every word he spoke. "You have a right messed up family, mate," he managed to croak eventually.

Sirius stuffed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head towards the sky. "You don't know half of it."

"Dump him," James said.

" _What?_ "

"Dump him. You can find someone else. So can he. Girls. You don't know what you're getting yourselves into with this. It's not a crush or some experiment, Sirius. This could be your  _lives_  on the line. You're only fifteen. Is a bit of snogging really worth it?"

They had reached the willow tree, but Sirius didn't sit down. He was shaking with anger or frustration – even he could no longer tell which at this point. All he knew was that James  _had_ to understand. "It's not about  _snogging_ , James! It's so much more than that. Don't you  _understand_? It's…it's… _more_. I would want to be with him even if he hated me. I would stay with him even if he was deformed or ugly or…or…a girl or  _anything._  I've  _always_ wanted that – wanted him. No one else. Even if something terrible happened, I couldn't want anything else. If he – I don't know – turned into a wolf and got stuck that way forever, I would damn well turn into Padfoot and stay that way forever too. If he got stuck as post-moon him with a kid's mind forever, I would take care of him and make sure he had much more fun than he ever did in his real childhood with…with  _toys_  and  _games_  and  _ice-cream_  and day trips to wherever the hell it is happy kids go! Do you understand? I  _can't_ leave him, Prongs."

Sirius had never before seen James as gob-smacked as he was then. He stood in front of Sirius with his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. His face couldn't seem to decide whether to be pale or scarlet and had settled on a rather unflattering red-and-white blotchy pattern as a compromise. "Bloody hell, Padfoot," he said eventually. "And you say  _I_ am whipped."

Sirius scowled. "You are."

"Well, if  _I'm_ whipped, you're hanged, drawn, and quartered."

Sirius sighed and flopped to the ground, lying on his back and crossing his arms behind his head. "Fine, I am. So what?"

"Just…don't hurt him."

" _Hurt_ him?" Sirius sat up again and glared at James. "Were you even listening when I poured my heart out to you?"

"I don't mean deliberately," James said quickly. "But sometimes you do stupid things without thinking about the consequences. If you …l-l- _like_  him that much, I can only guess that he's gone all out for you too, and you know that when Moony goes all out, he doesn't hold anything back. He's given you his heart, Padfoot. Don't crush it in your enthusiasm."

"Oh, mate. You do come out with some disturbingly and poetically graphic stuff sometimes. Fine tune it and send it to Evans. That'll get her if anything does."

"I'm serious – don't laugh. I really am. I know you wouldn't mean to, but you're a bit…Black…sometimes. It's not your fault, I know. It's just, I wouldn't want to have to choose between you and him if everything went wrong."

Sirius suddenly remembered that moment on top of the ledge just before he fell and Remus caught him.  _"Keep your bloody wolf senses to yourself!"_ The words had poured from his mouth unstoppably. Like poison venom. He was Black to the bone, no matter how much he fought it.

"You're right, of course," he said softly. "Just like Bellatrix said. 'Too Slytherin for Gryffindor, too Gryffindor for Slytherin.' Just promise me one thing, yeah?"

"What?"

"Promise me that if I do something to hurt him, you'll choose him over me. Promise me, James."

"It depends on the situation –" James began.

" _No!_ " James jumped. "No matter what – him over me. Promise me. Marauder's honour."

James visibly struggled with himself and eventually groaned and sagged against the tree. "Fine. I promise. Marauder's honour."

"Good." Sirius lay back again, satisfied.

"Speaking of Marauders, here comes Wormtail and your little love-muffin now."

"If you ever use the phrase 'love-muffin' again, you will be hanging from the branches of the Whomping Willow by your entrails while Evans lights a barbecue underneath you and dances round it cackling madly."

"Ooh!" Peter said, dropping to the ground beside James. "Who are we barbecuing?"

"Prongs," Sirius said, scowling at the grinning boy.

"Can't I offer Snivellus as a substitute?" James asked, pretending to wave something tantalisingly in front of Sirius's nose. "Wouldn't you rather see him being barbecued?"

"Oh, all right," Sirius sighed. "How can I resist an offer like that?"

"You two have to get over your Snape vendetta," Remus said, strolling up behind Peter. He had his book on cartography in one hand and a quill behind his ear. He looked so scholarly and eccentric that Sirius thought his heart might pop.

"Give up our Snape vendetta?" James asked, sounding shocked. "What would we have to live for then?"

"I just think it'll go too far one day and get you into trouble." Remus folded to the floor beside Sirius who was watching appreciatively. "See something you like, Padfoot?" he added, sending Sirius a cheeky grin before shifting and pulling the map out of his pocket.

"Ew, Moony," Peter screwed up his face. "Cheers for that mental image."

"I thought it was rather interesting." Sirius said.

"So," James said in an effort to change the subject. "How's the map going?"

"Really good. Watch this." Remus unfolded the map and laid it on the grass. Sirius propped himself up on his elbows and frowned when he saw that it  _wasn't_ the map – only a piece of blank parchment.

"What happened to it?" James demanded.

"Watch, I said." Remus tapped the parchment with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Black ink began to appear on the paper, forming in neat lines that quickly became walls, and then rooms or corridors, until finally the completed map was lying in front of them. As Sirius watched opened-mouthed, he saw one of the staircases move.

"Remus Lupin, you are my god!" he breathed.

"I wouldn't go quite that far," James said, making a face at Sirius, "but it would be close. You are one hell of a Marauder, Moony. This is totally  _awesome_."

"I need help to get the personality imprints in it and I've found a spell that will put people on it, too."

"Wait a minute," Peter interrupted. "People moving around you mean? And labelled with their names?"

"Yeah," Remus said, with a distinctly Marauderish air. "I'm guessing that's why the book is banned. It's a bit invasive of people's privacy."

"This is one of the coolest things ever," Peter announced. "In fact, the only thing that meets its level of coolness is the invisibility cloak."

"I'll second that," Sirius agreed.

"We have all day," Remus said. "Do you lads want to try the other spells now?"


	46. Belly-Dancing Slytherins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence

_Revenge is a dish best served cold_

_(Anon.)_

**REMUS:**

Three days later, Remus took a side trip to the dorm on his way to dinner to put his books away. The map was lying open on his bed; a clear sign that James and Sirius had been on an editing spree. He tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The lines began to appear and the map spread out in front of him. It soon became apparent what his friends had been doing. Dotted over the map were pencil markings that indicated little mistakes that they had made in the drawing of the map. There was a rather large question mark over an area in the dungeons where the walls of two corridors didn't quite meet up and Remus could only assume that they had made some mistakes when measuring the area.

It wouldn't take long to re-measure the walls, and Remus hated leaving anything incorrect or unfinished. He went over to Sirius's trunk and pulled out the magical tape measure. It would only take a few minutes and then he could go to dinner.

He couldn't find the invisibility cloak in James's trunk, so he guessed the other boy had it with him. He hesitated for a few moments, then squared his shoulders. Most of the Slytherins would be at dinner, wouldn't they? And there was no rule against Gryffindors being in the dungeons, even if it was traditionally Slytherin territory.

 _It's not like I can't protect myself if I need to,_ he assured himself, as he climbed out the portrait hole.

It was a lot cooler in the dungeons and the air smelled of damp and stone. As Remus had guessed, the dim corridors were empty and echoed. He hurried to the corridor that had been marked on the map and pulled out the tape measure. He attached it to one end of the wall and walked with it to the other. A little squeaky voice emerged from it as he went; " _ten metres, ten point five metres, eleven metres…_ "

When he reached the end of the corridor, he crouched down to read the final measurement. It was at that moment that he caught the scent of someone standing a little way behind him. No - more than one person - two, three, four...

He swung around, reaching for his wand, but he was not quick enough.

" _Petrificus Totallus!_ "

Remus leaped out of the way of the spell, but it glanced off one of his ankles and he felt it take hold. His limbs snapped together and he toppled to the floor.

"Well look here, gentlemen," A smooth voice drawled. "A lion wandering free in our territory."

Remus was presented with the view of Malfoy, Lestrange, Nott, Bellatrix and – Oh, Merlin! –  _Regulus_  peering down at him.

"I seem to remember that  _this_ lost lion was the one that threatened our Regulus once," Bellatrix said, looking delighted when she saw who it was. "And he's one of Sirius Black's friends. What would Sirius say if he found you all beaten and naked and tied to the Gryffindor flagpole, hmm?" She smiled at him, her bright, hooded eyes reminding Remus strongly of a rabid weasel he'd once encountered in the wood behind his father's house. Remus felt himself grow sick with fear. He was completely helpless. If they took off his clothes and found the bite scar…

"I've heard he's the brains behind Black's gang of Gryffindorks," Nott commented. "If we want his clothes off, we'd have to undo the  _petrificus_  and I'm not sure we want to risk that."

Bellatrix looked very disappointed and Remus felt his heartbeat slowing a little in relief.

"We'll have to settle for a little lesson on how much we  _don't_ like disgusting little half bloods skulking round our territory," Malfoy said. He aimed a hard kick at Remus's side that would have caused him to curl up in pain if he hadn't been trapped by the spell. It acted as a signal for the others as well, and kicks were now raining down on his unprotected body from all directions while he lay there, helpless even to curl up with his back to them as he used to do with his father.

He stared up at his attackers with pain-blurred eyes and after a few seconds noticed that Regulus wasn't joining in the beating. He was hovering behind them, wringing his hands and glancing up and down the corridor. He looked back to where Remus was lying and when he saw Remus's eyes on him, his face twisted and he took a step back.

"Regulus!" Sirius's bother jumped as Lestrange spotted him and frowned. "What's your problem? Don't you  _want_ to get revenge on your blood-traitor bother?" When Regulus just stared at him, Lestrange's expression became cruel and cunning. "Or are you harbouring secret sympathies for him? You know what we do to people who betray our House and our families."

Regulus flinched. "No," he whispered. "I - I just wasn't sure if you wanted me to."

"Of  _course_  we do, little Reggie," Bellatrix cooed. "If it wasn't for your sharp hearing, we wouldn't have known there was anyone down here at all. You deserve a reward for that. Come here and give him a piece of your mind. If you look closely, you can see how his eyes show his pain, even though the rest of his body can't react. Isn't it  _captivating_?"

Regulus was shoved forward and he stared down at Remus, pale faced and white-lipped. He looked close to tears, and when Remus saw those familiar grey eyes looking so frightened and helpless, he felt his heart ache in pity.

 _It's okay,_ he tried to make his eyes say.  _I don't blame you. None of us can help what we're made to be. You can't help being a Slytherin any more than I can help being a werewolf. It's okay. It's okay._

"Go on Reggie," Bellatrix said, her voice taunting. "Or would you rather show your solidarity to your brother's friends and join him?"

Regulus closed his eyes and kicked out with his foot, landing a stinging blow to Remus's already-aching side.

"Again!" Nott commanded.

Another blow and another. They were clumsy and mechanical, lacking the viciousness of the others', but they were powered by fear so they landed solidly again and again. Remus knew that if he wasn't so used to pain, he might have passed out by now. He wished, fervently, that he had.

It seemed like hours before Malfoy said, "I'm hungry. We'll miss dinner if we stay down here any longer. Get rid of him. Let's go."

They shoved Remus roughly into a shadowy alcove in the wall and left him there, propped up against the wall, as their footsteps faded. Remus remained alone and frozen in the dark, but he could only feel relieved that the pain had stopped.

 _Thank Merlin I didn't take the map with me,_ he thought.  _The others can find me on it. How long will it take them to begin looking? I sometimes miss dinner to work in the library. How long until they look for me?_

He didn't know the answer. There seemed to be no passing time in the damp, dark alcove into which he'd been shoved. The stone was icy, and the cold seemed to be seeping through him right to the marrow. He couldn't even shiver to warm himself.

Eventually, he heard soft footsteps approaching and stopping outside his hiding place. For one joyful moment his bemused senses thought he smelled Sirius, and then he noticed the differences in the scent. Regulus.

 _What do you want now?_ He thought tiredly at the boy.  _Have you come back for more?_

"You're still in there?" Regulus's voice shook with uncertainty, and Remus felt a hand reach into the dark and touch his arm. "Why hasn't my brother found you yet? I can't tell him – they'd kill me. And you're so cold. I don't know how to break the spell either. I've never been that good at remembering them. Not like Sirius."

Remus, of course, remained silent. He had no choice.

"I don't know what to do."

Remus felt the hand move down his arm to touch his icy fingers. "Oh God! You're not dead, are you?" The hand moved quickly to his face and one warm finger touched the corner of his eye. Remus rolled his eyes – the only part of his body still under his control – so that Regulus could feel the movement. "Oh, thank Merlin!" the boy breathed.

There was another long silence and the hand didn't move. "I didn't want to hurt you. I don't like you, but it wasn't right - hurting you while you were helpless like that. But I had no choice. You know that, right? I'm not like my brother. I'm not brave. And he likes you, I know. You and Potter and Pettigrew. I think you get different kinds of friends in Gryffindor. You don't have to keep proving yourself to them. Not that I want to be in Gryffindor. I wouldn't. Of course I wouldn't." He sighed and moved his hand. "I have to go now. The others can't find me here. But I'll come and check if you're still here later. If you are…" his voice trailed away. "I really am sorry."

And then Remus was alone again, feeling even colder than he had before, and it was a long time before he heard footsteps again. This time he was certain who it was because he heard Sirius's distinctive voice demanding in a whisper, "It says he's here?"

"In that alcove," James's voice answered. "I think. The map's not very accurate here because the measurements are all wonky."

"Moony?"

And there was that scent – the right one this time – filling his nostrils as a hand reached into the shadows for him. "Oh Merlin! James, help me!"

Four hands reached in, puling him out into the dim light of the corridor, and Sirius was there holding him up looking worried and frightened and furious, and James was just a floating head because his invisibility cloak was still around his shoulders.

" _Finite Incantatum!_ "

Now he could move again. All his limbs sagged and his body pounded with pain. Remus couldn't say a word. He closed his dry eyes and burrowed his face into Sirius's chest, shivering violently with the cold.

"Oh, Moony, Moony," Sirius whispered, wrapping his arms around him and rocking him gently. "I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry we didn't come earlier. We thought you were in the library and then it got past curfew and we were worried, so we looked at the map and saw you here."

Remus couldn't bring himself to answer. All he could think about was pain and cold and the fact that Sirius and James were here to rescue him and he just wanted to be somewhere  _warm_ with healing potions and soft beds and Sirius beside him…

"Come on," James said nervously. "Let's get back to the Tower. Unless you want the Hospital Wing?"

Remus shook his head violently, his face still buried against Sirius's chest.

"Thought not. I'll scout ahead with the cloak. We can't all fit under. Sirius, cast a lightening charm on him. He looks all beaten up so you'll have to carry him."

Remus felt a fizzing sensation run through his pain-throbbing body as Sirius muttered the charm. Then Sirius stood up easily with Remus in his arms and waited in the corridor as James pulled the cloak over his head and hurried ahead to check the coast was clear.

Remus wound his arms around Sirius's shoulders and clung on, still shivering so hard his teeth rattled. His sensitive ears suddenly picked up the sound of footsteps coming from behind them. He lifted his head and peered over Sirius's shoulder with alarm. Then he scented who it was and relaxed a little.

Regulus appeared almost silently around the corner. He stopped when he saw Sirius standing with his back to him in the middle of the corridor with Remus in his arms. He met Remus's eyes and took a nervous step back. Remus felt a new rush of pity for the boy, and instead of alerting Sirius, he lifted one hand painfully off Sirius's back and gave Regulus a wry, shivery salute.

Regulus hesitated, then gave a shy salute back before turning and disappearing around the corner again.

"Alright, Moony?" Sirius whispered, glancing over his shoulder and just missing seeing Regulus's disappearing figure.

Remus couldn't help whimpering as Sirius's movement sent jolts of pain through his body. He turned his face into Sirius's neck and closed his eyes.

"We'll get you back soon," Sirius assured him. "I got you, I won't let go."

" _I got you to love me so…_ " Remus sang the next line of the song in a muffled, raspy voice without moving his face away from Sirius' neck.

There was silence for a moment before Sirius quietly said; "Yes, you do."

For a moment Remus forgot the pain and the cold and everything except the way the whole world seemed to light up with those words. "You do, too," he whispered back, his voice little more than a croak.

Sirius's arms tightened a little and he dropped a light kiss into Remus's hair, just above his temple.

"Okay, lads!" James voice floated down the corridor. "Hurry up! It's all clear out of the dungeons."

They had to cast the lightening charm again halfway back to the Gryffindor Tower. It was amazing how long it took when James had to go on ahead at every new corner, but eventually, they were climbing through the portrait hole and into a mercifully empty common room.

"Finally!" Peter exclaimed as they entered the dorm. "I was worried sick. We  _have_ to get a bigger invisibility cloak. It's not right having to leave someone behind all the time. Oh my God! What happened to Moony?"

Sirius ignored Peter's chattering and gently laid Remus on his bed. "Will someone get his healing potions out of his trunk?"

James and Peter hurried to obey, pulling out bandages and bottles which they placed on Remus's bed.

"Moony, can I take your top off?" Sirius asked him quietly.

Remus's gaze flicked to where James and Peter stood watching.

"We'll go if you like," James said. "We won't look."

"It's okay," Remus croaked. "You'll have to see some time. And I think Sirius might need help with healing charms if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not."

"Who was it?" Sirius demanded, gently removing Remus's school robes, then starting to unbutton his shirt.

Remus thought of the desperation on Regulus's face as the others threatened him. "Just Malfoy, Bellatrix, Nott and some others. I wasn't really concentrating on faces."

Sirius pulled his shirt open and there were three horrified gasps from Remus's friends. Remus struggled to raise his head and looked down. His body was just one huge bruise; mottled red, purple and blue and flaring from both his sides and stomach and up over his chest. His scars – no matter how much healing he underwent there would always be the some scars – stood out lividly against his bruised flesh. He could only be glad that the silver-burns were only faint silvery lines now thanks to Madame Pomfrey's potion.

"Bloody hell, Moony," James murmured, unable to take his eyes off Remus's damaged torso. "How have you  _not_ gone feral and crazy and lashed out at the world for doing this to you?"

Remus couldn't answer that one. He couldn't put it into words.

"He feels ashamed that he was weak enough to let them do it to him," Sirius said, his voice betraying just how disapproving he was of this view. "He doesn't blame the world, he blames himself."

Remus scowled at Sirius who looked unaffected. "What? It's true. That  _is_ your warped view." He reached for a bruise-healing potion and poured some into his hands.

"You're the strongest person I know, Moony," Peter said, his voice unusually serious and quiet.

Sirius began to massage the potion into Remus's bruised sides. Coolness rushed through him and the constant throbbing, shooting pain began to ease. Unable to help himself he uttered a little wolf-like whine of appreciation.

"Don't you dare let this situation get all sexy," James warned. "Wormtail and I offered to go."

"I'm not feeling sexy," Remus assured him, more able to speak now that the healing potion had kicked in. "Just very appreciative that the pain is going. Merlin, that feels good!"

As he watched, his whole torso tingling, the bruises shrank and began to fade. There were areas of his body that had been so badly beaten that the skin had broken open. Sirius pulled out his wand and aimed it at one of these wounds. "Help me, Prongs. You know these charms are easier with two people."

While Remus and Peter watched, James and Sirius began muttering the long, lyrical chant that healed broken skin. Madame Pomfrey's spells worked more effectively, but James and Sirius were competent enough. The wounds closed slowly, turning to scars until even they began to fade.

"Cool," Peter said. "I wish I could do that."

"We did try to teach you," James reminded him, tilting his head as he examined the now-healed area of skin.

"'Try' being the operative word," Sirius added.

"I know," Peter said. "I have no idea how I'm going to pull off becoming an animagus."

"You will," Remus assured him. "I know you will."

"How are your legs?" Sirius asked.

"Just bruised," Remus said. "No broken skin, I think. They were mainly aiming for my torso."

"How on earth did you survive that bite?" James asked, his eyes on the original bite scar that twisted its way over Remus's right shoulder and down part of his chest.

Remus covered the scar with a defensive hand. He really  _hated_ his body. "I don't really remember. I don't remember it being as painful as my first full moon was."

"Transforming is sorer than that?" Peter asked weakly.

"Of course it is," Remus said. "I thought you'd read the books. It's not like an animagus transformation. My bones crack, my flesh melts, my organs pull out of shape, my mind is taken over by a raving monster. There is  _nothing_ in the world as painful as that."

"How do you do it?" James asked, looking at a loss. "Every month of your life?"

"I don't exactly have loads of options. Though during my first few moons I used to pray to the moonshadows to let me die before the moon rose so I wouldn't have to feel it."

"I'm so glad you didn't," Sirius said, his voice cracking.

"Me too," Remus assured him.

"Well," James said, determinedly cheerful. "Since I don't plan on sitting here and watching as Sirius rubs healing potion onto your thighs, I think I'll go have a shower now."

"I'll go as well," Peter said quickly. "Please close the curtains."

Sirius grinned and obediently closed the curtains round Remus's bed. "So Moony," he said. "Do I have your permission to rub healing potion onto your thighs?"

" _And put up a silencing charm!_ " Peter yelled.

Remus smiled back as Sirius laughed and muttered the charm. "Okay."

His heart rate increased rapidly as Sirius reached down and undid his trousers. All thoughts of sexiness disappeared, though, when Sirius gently began tugging them off and the pain from numerous bruises flared. "Owowow," he moaned as Sirius pulled off his shoes and then tugged the trousers over his feet.

"Bloody hell, Remus. They really did a number on you," Sirius said, eyeing the battered skin of Remus's legs. "You just give me ten minutes, some parchment and ink, and a couple of owls and I'll have some hired killers set on them in no time at all."

"Don't you dare," Remus said, propping himself up gingerly on his elbows. "Just give me some damn potion."

Sirius picked up the bottle of bruise potion again and poured it into his hand. He began smoothing it over Remus's bruises, starting low on his shins and working his way up. Coolness and pain relief flooded through Remus as he felt his tense muscles relax under the administrations. It was only when Sirius reached his thighs that he realised what they might be getting themselves into.

"Er…the pain is going," he tried.

"Good. That's the idea," Sirius said.

"When the pain goes, other parts of my body are going to kick in," Remus told him, abandoning all hope of subtlety. It was something that often went over both James's and Sirius's heads.

"Parts of mine already have," Sirius said with a wink. "You're just too sexy lying there all naked –"

"Mostly naked!" Remus interrupted quickly.

"Fine,  _mostly_ naked."

"Yeah, but…" Remus hesitated. "Do you even know what you're doing? You know – if we ever wanted to – you know…"

"Um…" Sirius paused for a moment. "Raise chickens? Start a band?"

" _What?_ "

"It was just something Evans said. Listen, I'm sure we'll figure it out as we go. Or you could get a book. I might even read it, especially if it has diagrams."

Remus was flushing furiously and drew his knees up to hide the fact that certain parts of his body were, indeed, taking an interest.

"Aw, come on Moony!" Sirius complained. "I spend all this time massaging oil –"

"Healing potion!"

"Fine,  _healing potion_  into your legs, and you're not even going to let me see if I had any effect on your libido?"

"You have," Remus said, blushing even more.

"Let's see then."

"No!"

"Why?"

"Because you're fully clothed and I'm tired and we're both only fifteen."

"I'll take my clothes off."

"Sirius..."

"Fine," Sirius huffed, then he grinned and ran a hand through Remus's hair. "I'll turn around so you can get your pyjamas on without me sneaking a look at your –"

"Shut up!"

Sirius turned his back, sniggering.

"It's gone down now, anyway," Remus told him.

"Bet it hasn't."

"Just because  _yours_ hasn't."

"How d'you know? Did you sneak a look, you kinky werewolf?"

Remus growled at him as he struggled into his pyjamas.

"Like that's going to turn me off."

Remus ignored him and slid under the covers. "Okay, you can look again."

Sirius turned back and smiled. He reached out to run his fingers down the side of Remus's face. "Can I kiss you?"

"Of course you can. I'm just not ready for –"

"I know. Nor am I, really. I was just teasing you because you look so hot when you're all turned on and blushing."

"Shut up."

Sirius leaned forward and kissed him and Remus felt the last of the cold and pain dissolve in that warmth. He felt content and protected and the air around them seemed to be fizzing gently as Sirius's lips traced a hot line from the corner of Remus's mouth to the curve of his neck, then back up to his temple.

"Padfoot..." Remus whispered, breathless. "God... do you even know how much I…" Then Sirius's mouth found his own again and Remus kissed him back, sending white-hot threads of desire sparking right through them both. A long time later, Sirius pressed a last kiss to Remus's temple, then just lay down beside him, wrapping his arms around him and drawing him close.

"You wonderful, perfect, amazing, darling thing," he murmured into Remus's ear. "If nothing else good ever happens to me, I'd be happy with what I have."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus was the only one of the Marauders to take Arithmancy. Peter had taken one look at the calculations involved and bolted, and James and Sirius didn't have the required patience. They preferred quick, intricate spells that had an immediate effect.

As a result, Remus made his way towards the Great Hall on his own the next day after his lesson. He slowed down, though, as he noticed the vast majority of students were heading out the main doors rather than towards to the food. Since most of the Hogwarts population was made up of very hungry adolescents who would only miss lunch for some truly spectacular entertainment, Remus followed them.

A large crowd of students were clustered around the entrance of the school staring up. Remus followed their gazes and felt his heart sink when he saw what they were staring at. Hoisted up into the air by their ankles and suspended there by a spell, were four Slytherins. Malfoy, Nott, Bellatrix and Lestrange were looking scarlet with a mixture of embarrassment, fury and the fact that the position they were trapped in meant that all their blood was rushing to their heads. Remus couldn't blame them. Their clothes had been transfigured into belly dancing outfits involving grass skirts, sequins and about four square inches of fabric between them. Their pale, aristocratic skin was dotted with goose bumps in the cool air and they were shrieking at the students below them to get a professor to help them down.

Remus scented Sirius and Peter coming up behind him under the cover of the invisibility cloak.

"I don't even have to ask if you're responsible," he said, without turning around.

"They hurt you," Sirius said, as though that explained everything. To him, it probably did.

"You're lowering yourself to their level," Remus told him, trying to feel the anger he knew he should.

"No, we're not!" Sirius sounded genuinely hurt. "We didn't injure them. We never put them in danger. We only embarrassed them. If we hadn't found you last night you might have died of hypothermia."

"They deserve it, Moony," Peter added.

Remus sighed. "You're going to get into trouble."

"They have no proof it was us."

Suddenly, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick came tearing down the main stairs and stared up at the trapped Slytherins with horror. As Flitwick began to cast spells to bring them down and restore their robes, Professor McGonagall hustled the crowd of watching students back inside. When Remus passed she grabbed his arm.

"Are you responsible for this?" she demanded.

"No!" Remus gave her an indignant look. "I knew  _nothing_ about it. I swear!"

"And your friends?"

"I told you – I don't know anything! I have no idea how they got up there."

She eyed him suspiciously. "This looks like the work of Mr. Potter and Mr. Black."

"It's not always them, you know," Remus said defensively. "Why do you assume it's always them?"

"Because it nearly always is."

Remus stood stiffly in front of her without saying anything until Professor McGonagall sighed and nodded towards the doors. "Go and get your lunch."

He hurried away, sensing Sirius and Peter right behind him. He veered into the boys toilets along the corridor, checked it was empty, then folded his arms and glowered at the space where he sensed the boys to be. Sirius and Peter emerged sheepishly from under the cloak.

"Sorry, Moony," Peter said. "We didn't know you'd get grilled for it."

Remus sighed. "Let's just go to lunch."

"Really, we  _are_ sorry," Sirius said.

"I know, I know. You just don't think sometimes. Where's James?"

"In detention. For practicing that ankle-levitation charm on darling Snivellus."

"On Snape?" Remus glared at them. "He wasn't even there last night!"

Sirius and Peter stared at their feet. "Sorry, Moony."

Remus turned his back, ready to stalk to the door, but Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. Remus struggled for a few seconds, then gave up and relaxed against Sirius's chest. "I really am sorry," Sirius murmured again.

"Just...  _think_  next time."

Sirius dropped a quick kiss onto his cheek and released him. They turned to find Peter watching them, looking Gryffindor scarlet with embarrassment. "You're properly… together," he said, looking as though it was a brand new development. Remus supposed that it was. He and Sirius usually avoided any shows of public affection, even in front of James and Peter. They weren't entirely sure how far their friends' open-mindedness would go.

"You already knew that," Sirius said.

"I know but…" Peter shrugged. "I guess I didn't actually picture you guys… you know… doing anything."

"Well good. If you had, it would be fairly disturbing."

"You know what I mean."

"Does it upset you?" Remus asked hesitantly.

"Well… no. It's kind of weird, but at the same time it seems sort of normal. Like –  _right_. Because you two… fit together, you know?"

Remus smiled. "Thanks, Wormtail."

"I'm glad for you," Peter said. "It's weird that you're... you know… both blokes, but I am glad. Especially for Moony. Sirius could get anyone he wanted, but I know that Remus was always afraid about how they would react if they found out about his furry little problem. Being with Sirius solves all your problems, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Remus agreed. "But it also creates a whole lot of new ones. It's like extreme dating. You never know when you're going to be called upon to beat up guys in dark alleys or steal illegal potions ingredients, or explain away a gang of Slytherins dressed in grass skirts and suspended by their ankles over the entrance of the school."

"Hardly any of those things were entirely my fault," Sirius said, a shade indignantly. "The others helped."

Remus smiled. "I wouldn't change it for anything."


	47. Mohawks and Furry Ears

_"Real magic can never be made by offering someone else's liver. You must tear out your own, and not expect to get it back."_

_(Peter S. Beagle - 'The Last Unicorn')_

**SIRIUS:**

"But  _why_  would you do that, Mr. Black?" Professor McGonagall said, her voice rising in exasperation.

"I couldn't help it!" Sirius explained for the fourth time. "They were just hanging round looking all Slytheriny. You can't tell me you wouldn't have done the same in my position."

"You will be amazed to hear that I manage to go whole  _weeks_ without charming dungeon gargoyles to follow Slytherins round belching the word 'loser' at irregular intervals." Professor McGonagall sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose as Sirius stood in front of her desk fidgeting. "That will be ten house points from Gryffindor and detention with Mr. Filch tomorrow evening. And would you please explain to me why your have a red and gold stripy mohawk which – I hasten to add – is against all Hogwarts hair regulations?"

"It's in house colours."

"I don't care, Mr. Black. You will remove it immediately."

"I can't," Sirius told her. "I lost poker against James and this was the loser's prize. He put the charm on me and I don't know how to take it off."

"Tell him to remove it. And if he refuses, I'm sure Mr. Lupin will be aware of the correct counter-charm. Next time I see you, I want your hair to be back to normal. Now off you go, and if I hear of any more Slytherin baiting from you or Mr. Potter, I will be forced to send you to the headmaster."

Sirius hurried away and headed down the corridor in the direction of the tiny secret room where they had brewed the house-animal potion in second year. It was once again being put to service as a potions lab, this time for the Animagus potion.

"Where've you been?" James demanded, as Sirius sidled in through the secret door behind the goblin statue. "I've been having to get Moony and Wormtail to do the cutting of ingredients and had to prevent imminent explosions three times."

"It's not our fault we're rubbish at potions," said Peter, who did look rather sooty round the edges. He and Remus were sitting in front of chopping boards on the floor, surrounded by potions ingredients.

"Had a run in with our darling Head of House," Sirius said, crouching on the floor and peering into the cauldron in front of James. "Over that gargoyle prank."

"Didn't the spell wear off after half an hour?" Remus asked. "It should have, according to that book I was reading."

"Nope," Sirius said. "Apparently it's been following them around all day."

"Odd."

"Your hair really looks dreadful, mate," Peter said, glancing up from slicing snake root and catching sight of Sirius in the dim light of the cauldron fire and Remus's wand, which had replaced the quill he had taken to storing behind his ear.

"McGonagall didn't like it either. She told me to make James take it off."

"Not a chance, Padfoot," James said, stirring the cauldron three times clockwise, then once counter clockwise and tilting his head to the side to examine the effect. "You lost the game."

"But I'll get another detention," Sirius whined. "I already have one with Filch tomorrow evening and I heard he's been making people scrub the trophy room by hand. You'd better add the snake root, by the way. It's about to explode."

"I  _know_ ," James said, grabbing the board from Peter and tipping it in. "I  _can_ make potions, you know."

"Come here, you idiot," Remus said, motioning Sirius over to his side. Sirius shuffled over, unable to sit up straight because the ceiling of the little stone room was so low. Remus drew his wand from behind his ear and gave it a complicated wiggle, muttering under his breath. Sirius felt a tingling on his head, then his hair relaxed and dropped once more into his eyes, fading to black as it did so.

"Moony, you're a genius!" Sirius shook the hair out of his eyes. "Why didn't you do it before?"

"I thought you deserved to suffer a bit for charming that gargoyle to follow round those poor Slytherins." Remus reached out and finger-combed Sirius's hair. "You need to deal with it, though. Looks a bit like James's at the moment."

"Oh no - fix it, fix it!" Sirius looked gave Remus a pleading look.

"Hey!" James protested. "There's nothing wrong with my hair. It's got that sexy just-got-off-a-broomstick look."

"We really don't want to know how you just got off on a broomstick," Sirius said. "I mean I know you love Quidditch, but there really are limits. What would Evans say?"

"She'd probably feel sorry for the broomstick," Remus said, kneeling up to fix Sirius's hair.

"I will not dignify that with a comment." James jabbed the dripping potion spoon in Sirius's direction. "I don't know why I stay friends with you lot."

"No one else would have you, mate," Sirius said. "How's the potion coming along?"

"Okay. It should be done by the beginning of June. We can dose ourselves up before the end of term, then practice the actual transformation over the summer."

"Just think, Moony," Peter said. "Next year you won't have to be on your own."

"I know. I can't wait," Remus sounded so wistful that Sirius couldn't resist putting his arms around his waist and hugging him, his cheek resting against Remus's stomach because the other boy was still kneeling above him, fixing his hair.

"Do you mind?" James asked, wrinkling his nose.

"You deserve it," Remus told him. "I'll never be able to look at a broomstick the same way again."

"I did  _not_ get off on a broomstick."

"The first step to overcoming a problem is to admit that you have one."

"I do  _not_ have a problem. I do  _not_ find broomsticks sexually attractive in any way."

Sirius shook his head. "He has a long way to go," he said to Remus, his expression mournful.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

In spite of other personality flaws that his fellow Marauders were quick to point out to him, James was actually very good at potions, and as a result, his estimate of the potion's finishing date was accurate. It was the first week in June and it was turning out to be a very good one. Gryffindor's victory over Ravenclaw ensured them second place for the house cup, rather than last as it had been for five previous years, and resulted in a wild party in the Common Room involving four crates of butterbeer, two bottles of stolen fire whiskey, Remus's new and altered tape-player and severe hangovers the next morning.

Three days later, the Marauders were all sitting in a circle on the floor of their silence-charmed dorm with three vials of Animagus potion in the centre.

"I feel a bit sick," Peter said, looking at the vials.

"You don't have to do this," Remus told them. "I would rather you didn't, actually. Do you know the list of possible negative side effects in the book was twelve pages long?"

"Nothing's going to go wrong," James assured him. "The potion is perfect."

"That's not the bit I'm worried about. I'm worried about the bit where you grab at your magic blindly with your minds and force your body to transfigure into a shape it's not designed to be."

Sirius reached out and squeezed his hand. "If you think I'm backing out now that we've got this far, you're insane."

"But – "

Sirius reached out, grabbed a vial and downed it in one gulp. He felt a fiery heat fill his body, starting at his stomach and racing through his veins, down his arms and legs until even his toes and fingers were tingling. He was only just getting a grip on the sensation when something bowled him over and he felt preternaturally strong fingers prying his jaw open while another hand pressed his stomach roughly.

" _Spit it out! Spit it out!_ "

"I swallowed it," Sirius gasped, his eyes watering with a mixture of the heat and the pain of Remus's fist in his stomach.

"Then puke it up!" He forced his fingers into Sirius's mouth and Sirius felt them searching for his gag reflex.

"Moony, get off him!" Sirius was aware of James grabbing Remus's hand and yanking it out of his mouth with all his strength as Sirius crouched on the floor and dry-retched.

"What the  _hell_ do you think you're  _doing_?" James yelled at Remus, as he pulled him off Sirius and shook him roughly.

"I don't want you to do it!" Remus wailed, batting at James's hands. "I can't lose you! I can't lose Sirius!"

Sirius watched through watering eyes as James relaxed his grip a little and Remus covered his face with his hands, his nails digging gouges into the sensitive skin of his cheeks and forehead.

Sirius crawled forward and pulled Remus away from James and into his arms. He pried the werewolf's hands away from his face. "I'm fine. Look, Remus, I'm fine."

Remus sagged against him and turned his face so it pressed against his shoulder. "Don't do it, don't do it," he begged, his voice muffled by Sirius's robe. " _P_ _lease_  don't do it. I can't l-l-l-lose you. I can't lose you."

"It's too late," Sirius whispered. "It's in my system now."

"Ours too," Peter said quietly.

Sirius glanced up to see James and Peter setting down empty vials and Remus seemed to sag even more.

"It'll be fine, Moony," Peter added. "We're the Marauders."

"It'll just take practise," James said. "Like the meditation we did before. You just have to centre yourself and concentrate on your inner animal. The potion was the hard part. It might take a few months to get right, but we have the whole summer. Then you won't have to be alone every full moon. Don't you want that?"

Remus hung his head. "Sorry I attacked you, Padfoot."

"It's okay, no harm done." Sirius touched his bruised stomach. "Well, no serious harm done anyway."

"Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry. If you'd taken a dodgy, dangerous potion I probably would have done a lot worse."

Remus gave a hiccough, though Sirius couldn't tell whether it was a sob or an attempt at a laugh. He pulled away from Sirius and sat up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"This is it, lads," James said. "All we have to do now is use our magic to trigger the potion."

"We can't try that for a week," Sirius reminded him. "We have to leave a week for it to settle in."

"A week's not long enough," Remus muttered.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Much to Sirius's, James's and Peter's disappointment, the task of actually changing into an animal turned out to be much harder than they had anticipated. In the weeks leading up to the summer holidays, they spent hours a day in meditation, and so far, all they had managed to achieve was one set of antlers, one matching set of black tail and ears, three rat's whiskers and some rather severe headaches.

Remus - after one or two rather panicked moments - had realised that, although his friends had great difficulty changing  _into_ the animals, they appeared to have no problems changing back. As a result, he watched their efforts with a mixture of resignation, sympathy and –more often – amusement.

"It's not  _funny_ ," Sirius said, the day before the summer holidays, when he had once again ended up with only a long, black tail and dog-like ears after an hour's meditation. He and Remus were up in the dorm, supposedly packing, although currently the werewolf was sitting beside his half-full trunk shaking with suppressed laughter.

"It is a bit funny," said Remus, taking a deep breath and managing to compose himself. "Your ears kind of change shape and then shift to the top of your head like a dog's but then you don't follow through and it just stops there."

"I get really dizzy," Sirius told him, feeling a little defensive. He wasn't used to having to work this hard for things and it was grating on his nerves. "And then I lose concentration before I'm properly changed. It's easy to do ears and tail now. It's like – once you've done it, it's easy to do it again. It's the doing-it-once that's the problem. How do you break through the dizzy barrier to change all the way?"

"I've found that standing under the full moon and screaming in agony generally does it for me," Remus offered.

Sirius frowned and flung himself back on his bed, staring up at the drapes above him. "I'm going to get this right."

"Don't stress," Remus said, standing up and going to sit on the bed beside Sirius. "You'll get it. I know you will." He reached up and stroked his hand over one of the pointed dog-ears that were nestled in Sirius's hair. "They're really soft," he added. "I wonder if the rest of you will be soft, too?"

Sirius couldn't help leaning into the caress. He suddenly realised why dogs always wanted their ears scratched. It felt wonderful. Remus gave a little laugh. "You're such a dog."

"Doesn't Moony like his ears being scratched?"

Remus shrugged. "Who knows? If anyone tried, Moony would eat them before they had a chance to get anywhere near our ears."

"Do you even know what wolfy-you looks like?" Sirius asked.

Remus shifted a little uncertainly. "No. The wolf never really goes looking for mirrors, oddly enough. He spends most of the time trying to fight his way out, craving blood and tearing things up."

"So… no one has ever seen you in your wolf form? Not even you?" For some reason, the idea struck Sirius as incredibly sad.

Without looking at Sirius, Remus shook his head, although he didn't move the fingers that were still gently stroking Sirius's ears. "There's this… event. Werewolves call it 'Blood Moon'. I think there's one in our sixth or seventh year. I read about it in one of those books James brought for me from his house. It's the only book on lycanthropy that was ever written by a werewolf, so it was quite fascinating. He lived in a pack with other werewolves up in the French Alps. They lived far away from civilization so they could run free without hurting anyone." Remus's expression was very wistful.

"Blood Moon?" Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That sounds painful."

"No, no. It's just a name for the full moon eclipse. When the shadow of the earth eclipses the full moon, the moon turns red. It looks like a red ball hanging in the sky. It only happens once every hundred years or so. According to Amadeus – the author of the book – there's a werewolf legend about it.

"Apparently, thousands of years ago, when Merlin was still alive, there was a pack of feral werewolves that went on the rampage and killed a whole town of people on a full moon night. In those days, werewolves were instantly recognisable because even when they were human, their eyes remained bright golden and seemed to glow. After that terrible night, people everywhere set out to hunt werewolves and slaughter them wherever they found them."

"The werewolves were desperate. The actions of one pack meant that the lives of others – who had lived peacefully among humans and locked themselves away for transformations – were in danger. The slaughter spread from England and across Europe as people – many of whom had never liked werewolves anyway – took this opportunity to slaughter those they saw as monsters in human skin."

"Some of the werewolves went to Merlin to beg him for help. He told them that they had to carry out ten thousand good deeds and he would grant their request. They spread the word, and everywhere, werewolves began to seek out good deeds to be done. Their superior strength helped them out a lot. They rebuilt towns, rescued people who were in danger, slayed dragons and a few of them even took in orphan children, who had no one else to care for them."

"Of course, the ordinary people only saw unnatural monsters and the killing didn't stop. There is a story of one werewolf who swam to a sinking ship to rescue a child and when he arrived on shore, the father took the child from him, then stabbed him in the heart with a silver knife."

"Throughout Europe, thousands of good deeds were carried out and thousands more werewolves were killed. When Merlin saw what was happening, he was furious. He created a powerful spell that reached out to werewolves through their shared blood and it changed the colour of their eyes, so that they remained their original human shade unless the wolf within was near the surface. In this way, the werewolves could hide unknown and unseen in the human population."

"He knew this spell wasn't enough to make up for the damage done, so he called as many werewolves to him as he could reach and asked them what he could do as a reward for their good deeds and as a consolation for their slaughtered brothers and sisters. Every werewolf there knew what made them suffer the most, and as one, they begged Merlin to allow them to keep their minds during the transformation."

"Merlin sought desperately for a way to carry out their wishes and failed. The ingredients available to him in England and across Europe were too limited to invent a potion and one person's magic was not enough to alter the genes of a whole species. So instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He took the blood of ten thousand of the slaughtered werewolves and created another new spell. It took so much of his power that he couldn't walk for two years. He created Blood Moon. The sacrifices of those ten thousand werewolves would not be in vain. Their blood would stain the moon – blotting out its full light - so that for that single night over the full moon eclipse, the instant the first shadow crossed the edge of the moon, every werewolf would regain his human mind for that time."

Sirius was very quiet as Remus finished his story. It was a lot to take in – the knowledge that the prejudice against Remus's kind had been going on for so long. What would happen if people began slaughtering werewolves again in modern times? How would he be able to protect Remus from them? If people were actively  _looking_ for werewolves, many of the more intelligent pupils in the school would be able to work out from Remus's regular 'illnesses' just what he was.

"Padfoot?" Remus ran his fingers through Sirius's hair and over his ears again. "I didn't tell you the story to make you unhappy. I told it to you so you can realise what I can experience on the night of Blood Moon in a few years time."

Slowly, the reason why Remus had told him the story dawned on Sirius's troubled mind again. "You'll be able to be  _you_  in Moony's body for a night?" he whispered.

"Yes." Remus's eyes seemed to glow – not with the golden light of a werewolf – but with the soft inner radiance of someone faced with something too wonderful to express in words. "Won't that be incredible? It would only be for a few hours as the shadow passes over the moon and then leaves again, but imagine what it will be like! I can see what I look like. I can run outside and not be afraid of hurting someone. I will have my own mind…"

Sirius sat up and drew Remus to him, kissing him soundly on the lips. He felt warm and slim and strong and smelt like autumn and pine needles. He tasted like chocolate he'd eaten for dessert that evening. Everything about Remus was an exquisite barrage on his senses.

Remus smiled, tilting his head to give Sirius access to his neck. Sirius knew he loved it when he kissed his neck, and Sirius adored the taste of Remus so he wasn't complaining. He sucked gently at the sensitive skin just above Remus's collarbone and Remus hummed in enjoyment, the sound sending hot shivers threading in electric waves through Sirius's body. After a while, Sirius groaned and shifted away.

"What's wrong?"

"Bloody tail," Sirius said. "I'm sitting on it and it's very uncomfortable."

Remus laughed and reached out to give said tail a gentle tug. "It'll probably be more comfortable when it's on the correct type of body. Get rid of it and kiss me again."

"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" Sirius teased, before frowning in concentration and feeling the tail disappear and the ears returning to their human form. Then Remus let out a groan of his own.

"What now?" Sirius asked.

Remus glanced towards the door and after a few seconds Sirius heard footsteps approaching and James burst in, stopping when he spotted Remus and Sirius sitting close together on the bed together. He screwed up his face. "Gross."

"What?" Remus said defensively.

"I just walked in on you two making out."

"We weren't!"

"Moony, you have a hickey on your neck that definitely wasn't there this morning and I can't think of any other reason why you two would be treating me to such a death glare. I've been quite good lately."

"Well?" said Sirius. "Go on out if you don't want to watch, 'cause on the count of three, we're going to start snogging again."

"Don't you  _dare_." James went to his trunk and opened it. "Some of us have to pack." He glanced at the area around Sirius's bed which was strewn with his belongings. "'Us' meaning you as well, Padfoot."

"You can't fault the man's reasoning," Remus said reluctantly. "I'd better go find Wormtail as well. I don't think a single thing he owns is actually in his trunk. I saw one of his socks hanging over the edge of the portrait hole when I came in earlier."

"You think that's bad?" said Sirius. "I saw his 'I heart Honeydukes' underpants in the kitchen when I went down there earlier. I don't even  _want_ to know how they got there."

" _I_ don't want to know how you know that he owns a pair of 'I heart Honeydukes' underpants."


	48. Summer Holidays Fourth Year

_Worry, doubt, fear and despair are the enemies which slowly bring us down to the ground and turn us to dust before we die._

_(Attributed to Douglas MacArthur)_

**REMUS:**

"Remus, love? We have to go now."

Remus barely heard Angela as he stood beside his trunk on the station the next day and watched Sirius join his family. At school, Sirius, along with James, seemed like one of the most alive and vibrant people that Remus knew. Now, however, everything about him seemed to shrink as he dragged his trunk up to where his mother and brother waited for him.

Walburga Black was a tall, waxen woman who still had the fading remnants of a beauty that must have been similar to Bellatrix's in her youth. Even these remnants disappeared, though, when she caught sight of her oldest son standing forlornly beside Regulus. Her face twisted and she muttered something to him that caused Sirius's shoulders to hunch in a way that Remus knew intimately, having used that same action many times himself.

"Remus?"

This time, Angela put her hand on his arm and Remus gave his head a little shake and glanced at her. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Are you okay? I know your… change… is only a couple days away. Let's get you home."

Remus glanced towards the Black family again, only to see the three dark heads disappearing into the floo station that joined platform nine and three quarters. His stomach twisted painfully and he had to force himself not to run after them and drag Sirius away.

"Come on, lad," Neil said, giving Remus a gentle push in the direction of the barrier to the muggle station. He picked up Remus's trunk and Remus reluctantly followed him, Angela hovering protectively beside him.

"Hey, Moony!" Remus, who had been about to step through the barrier, glanced up as James raced over while his mother and father waited patiently by the door to the floo station. To his surprise, James pulled him into a quick, awkward hug. "I'll get him out as soon as I can. I promise." Then he pulled away, winked, and hurtled back to his parents, seemingly oblivious to the stares that followed him.

"What was that about?" Neil asked, as Remus blinked and smiled wryly. "Who will he get out of where?"

"Sirius." Remus turned and walked through the barrier, Angela and Neil following with confused expressions on their faces. "He goes and stays with the Potters when he can over the holidays. He doesn't get on with his parents and they lock him in the kitchen cellar a lot. I worry about him."

"Remus, love. You shouldn't worry," said Angela. "The Ministry would know if he was being treated too badly. They're a high profile family."

"The Ministry didn't know about me," Remus pointed out softly. "Seven years and no one came to check on me once. It took an ex-DADA teacher and three twelve-year-old boys to get me out of there. The Ministry don't know anything. And even if they did, do you seriously think they would be willing to take on the Black family?"

Angela opened her mouth, then closed it again and carried on walking. No one said a word as Neil heaved Remus's trunk into the boot of the car and they drove out of the station. After a while Angela quietly asked, "Is it really that bad?"

Remus sighed. "I really don't know. He doesn't talk about his family much if he can avoid it."

"I wish we could do something."

"You've already done so much good." Remus reached over the back of the passenger chair and squeezed her shoulder. "You took me in. You gave me a home. You couldn't have found a more high-maintenance son if you'd auditioned every student in Hogwarts."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus had known that the next full moon would be hard. He was away from the familiar territory of the Shrieking Shack, he was away from his pack, and – most of all – he was away from Sirius for the first time since the start of their new relationship.

Of course, he didn't remember much. He stood, trembling and naked, in the cellar of the Anders' house as the transformation gripped him. He screamed in agony as his flesh melted and his bones cracked; the sound of his cries sucked into silence by the charms that surrounded the room.

Rush of dark-red frustration – walls-walls-walls all around and the moon calling through them, promising blood. Unfamiliar place, unfamiliar smells – some human. Human…yes…bloodbloodbloodblood. Howling, tearing, pain and a wash of coppery liquid into his mouth.

Metallic, wet, burning pain. Savage streaks of it shooting in white hot waves through his body. Want. Want. Want blood. Want pack. Want mate. Want run. Want out. Wantwantwant. Tear again, bite again. More pain, more want.

Then suddenly moon is gone. Moony sucked back, but clinging on. Human fighting back. More pain – hotter, melting, cracking.

_PAINPAINPAIN_

Warm. Pain going. Human smell again, but no bloodlust. Soft bed. Potions that made him sneeze painfully. Pack? Where pack? Where Prongs? Where Wormtail? Where Padfoot? Where  _Padfoot? PADFOOT! PADFOOT!_

"Who's 'Pa'foo', darling? Calm down. I'm here. Look, I'm here, Angela's here."

_PADFOOTPADFOOTPADFOOT! SIRIUSSIRIUS!_

"He's not here, love. We're here. Sirius isn't here."

Sobbing, begging.  _Moony sorry, Moony sorry. Please – Padfoot. Please Sirius! Please pack! Please Padfoot..._

"He's not here, darling. I'm sorry, he's not here."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus stirred, but didn't open his eyes. His throat felt cracked and dry, his cheeks raw. His whole body ached and burned with the after-effects of his transformation. Slowly, Remus forced his eyes open. They were damp and sticky with what felt like drying tears.

His head was drooping to his right on the pillow, and from here, he could see out of his bedroom window. It was dark outside – the almost-full moon hovering malevolently in the sky.

"Remus, love? Are you back?"

Slowly, he turned his head to look at Angela who had been fussing with an array of potions on his desk, but was now hurrying over with an expression of unutterable relief on her face. Remus tried to smile.

"Oh Merlin! I was so worried!" Remus could see the effort it cost her not to scoop him up and hug him with relief. She reached out and ran a gentle hand through his hair instead, careful not to aggravate any of his injuries.

"How… long?" Remus forced out, his voice little more than a dry croak.

"Were you like a child?" Angela questioned.

Remus gave a stilted nod.

"The whole day. If you hadn't recovered in the next half hour, we were going to send for Madame Pomfrey." Her finger brushed his hair away from his damp forehead and tucked it behind his ear. "It was really bad, Remus."

Another jerky nod. "I knew… it would be. No pack. New place."

"It was worse than last holiday."

Remus glanced up at the new voice to see Neil standing in the doorway looking more relieved and wrung out than Remus had ever seen him. "Pack's stronger now," he explained, trying to use as few words as possible. "Every year we grow closer."

"That's very dangerous, Remus," Neil said. "You can't come to rely on them that much. They're only teenage boys. If they abandon you on some whim, it would destroy you."

Remus made a noise between a cough and a laugh, and then blanched as sharp pain needled through him. "Yes, it would," he agreed, his voice beginning to return a little. "Too late to turn back now. It was too late the moment they found me in the library in second year and offered to be my friends."

"You kept…" Angela swallowed and brushed her fingers through his hair again. It was the only part of his body she could touch without hurting him. "You kept… asking for Sirius we think. Sometimes you called him 'Pa'foo', but I think you meant him. You asked for the others as well – but mostly for him."

Remus could hear the question in her tone – the need for an explanation. He heard the hint of hurt envy in her voice that she had struggled to hide.

"He…" Remus wished his head was less fuzzy with pain and potions. He couldn't have this conversation now. "Sirius is the only one who holds me," he tried to explain, without giving too much away. "He doesn't get… embarrassed by physical contact. He will hold me when I need to be held. The others are a bit awkward. They try but…"

"It's okay, Remus," Neil said, sending Angela a look that Remus, in his current state, could not decipher.

"I'm sorry," Remus whispered.

"What for, lad?" Neil said, moving a little closer and reaching out to touch one of Remus's well-bandaged hands.

"You know…" Remus waved his fingers stiffly, trying to convey what he meant. "For this. For worrying you. For-for asking for the others when you're only trying to h-help me."

"Don't be silly," Angela said sternly. "None of this is your fault. You just lie there and get better and I'll bring you up something to eat."

Remus lay back, loving the comfort of his family, but unable to help some part of him, deep down, from wishing it was Sirius's fingers in his hair instead, Sirius's hand gently holding his. The guilt that accompanied this thought was almost more painful than his physical wounds.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Moony,_

_How was your you-know-what? I wish more than anything I was there for you after the moon. I've had loads of extra time over the holidays as I don't like coming out my room. I've been practising becoming Padfoot. Not much success so far, sadly._

_My mother had a portrait done of herself while we were at school. She hung it up in the hall with ever-lasting sticking charms. It's worse than she is, I swear. Every time I walk through the hall it starts yelling abuse at me. I plan on getting revenge, though. Remember those posters I bought at Christmas? The ones of the naked girls and the motorbikes? Well, I'm going to stick them all to my walls with the same charm she used for that bloody portrait. That'll show her! I'd rather have lots of naked Moonys on my wall, but even I'm not that suicidal. Plus I don't have any naked Moony pics…hint, hint._

_Anyway, I hope you recovered okay. Are you able to come to James's in mid-August? My parents and darling Regulus are going to France then, so I'm sneaking off to the Potters. Until that day, I will be pining for your presence._

_Oodles of love and post-moon-cuddles,_

_Padfoot_

_PS: Isn't 'oodles' an awesome word? It reminds me of noodles and poodles and strudels and other things ending in 'oodles'_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Sirius,_

_I am so, so glad to hear you'll be going to James's. Can't you go sooner than mid-August, though? I'm worried about you being in that house for too long._

_Don't you DARE stick up those posters. Who knows what your mother will do to you if she sees them. Please, please promise me you won't. As for pictures of naked Moony… keep dreaming, you bad dog. Besides, would you really want your mother ogling my bits?_

_My 'you-know-what' was fine. Apparently I kept asking for you. I think Angela is a little jealous. I wish she wasn't. I really do love her and appreciate what she does for me. I suppose I should have told her about us so she didn't feel so bad, but I'm just afraid about how she (and Neil) will react._

_Anyway, wishing you oodles of noodles, poodles and strudels,_

_Your_ _Moony_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Padfoot?_

_It's been a week. Why didn't you write back? Are you okay? Please, please tell me you're just too busy sticking up posters to write. Or you've lost your quill. All your quills. And your ink. And forgotten how to write. Even tell me you're angry with me about something. I don't care! Just write back. Please._

_With worry,_

_Moony_

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_Oh, Merlin, Sirius – Write back, write back, write back! Two weeks and no word from you. Please just write back._

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Prongs,_

_Please, please tell me you've heard from Sirius. I can't take this anymore. It's been three weeks and I haven't heard from him. We have to think of something. We just have to!_

_Moony_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Moony,_

_I told you when you floo'd me – there's nothing we can do. I asked my Dad and he said the Black house is under a version of the Fidelius charm. The only people who can tell anyone where it is are immediate family members. And I bet they took that privilege away from Sirius a long time ago. Not even Aurors could get in- not that they would try. No one dares to mess with the Black family._

_I'm so, so sorry, Remus. I'm really worried as well. I can't sleep at night thinking about what he might be going through._

_Prongs_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Moony and Prongs,_

_I hope you've heard some news. I can't bear not knowing if he's okay. Please keep me updated. I know I told you never to floo me over summer because of my Muggle relatives, but if it's an emergency, just do. We can always obliviate them afterwards. I hope you hear something soon._

_Pete_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Over a month, Padfoot. Merlin, the moon was bad with me worrying about you. Neil and Angela called Madame Pomfrey because I didn't recover my mind for a full day and night. I can't even imagine what it's like for you. I don't dare send this letter. I have no idea if they're even getting to you, and I don't want your family reading it._

_Please, please be alright. I love you, I love you, I love you…_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Remus and Pete,_

_Dad and Mum are getting really worried. If we haven't heard from Sirius by tomorrow evening, Dad's going to the Ministry to report a case of suspected child abuse. It's going to be big. Really big. Even bigger than yours, Moony. It's the Black family, and there's going to be an uproar from all the purebloods. I don't know what to do anymore. This is the worst summer ever._

_I hope you're both okay. How was your you-know-what, Moony? I can imagine it was bad._

_James_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_12 Grimmauld Place, London_

_Don't make me regret this, Lupin. Get in, get him, get out. I'm putting my whole family at risk. No Aurors. You have been warned. I have enclosed the letters you sent. Stop sending them. He's not getting them, and I only just stopped my mother from intercepting them. I haven't read them. You can see they're still sealed._

_We leave for France on the 16_ _th_ _August. The house will be empty except for house elves._

_Consider my debt to you for that day in the dungeons repaid._

_Regulus Black_


	49. Living Shadows

_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation_   
_Darkness wakes and stirs imagination_   
_Silently the senses abandon their defences_

_(Phantom of the Opera)_

**SIRIUS:**

It always amazed Sirius that – with only one look and four short words – his mother could completely demolish any sense of confidence and self worth he had built up over the school year. On the first day of the summer holidays, when Walburga Back met her two sons at Kings Cross station, those words were: " _Move_ , blood-traitor brat!" The look was one generally reserved for the contents of a kneazel's litter tray after it has eaten a particularly dodgy mouse.

No matter how hard Sirius tried to retain his proud posture, he felt the weight of her disgust press heavily down on him, causing his spine to curve and his shoulders to hunch. What made it worse was that he could still feel Remus's worried gaze on him. Sirius had been so desperate to at least keep up appearances until he was out of sight of the other Marauders. There was no telling how bad Remus's transformation would be if he was already worrying about Sirius's home life.

He followed his mother and Regulus meekly to the floo station, and tried to avoid onlookers' eyes as Walburga stalked her way to the front of the queue and stepped into the nearest free fireplace, muttering under her breath to prevent any eavesdroppers from hearing the address to their well-warded house.

Regulus followed quickly and Sirius hurried after him; eager to escape the stares – some pitying, some worried and some loathing. He found himself forced to mouth the address almost silently as he flung down the floo powder, confirming his suspicions that his parents had excluded him from the family's fidelius charm. No matter what happened, he would be completely unable to inform his friends about where he lived. A good thing, he mused, or he might - in a moment of weakness - write to James, begging him to come to the rescue. James knew the Black residence was in Grimmauld Place in London – something Sirius had mentioned before his parents had removed him as a secret keeper – but not the number. Without it, the house would be unreachable to him, and Sirius wasn't even sure if James would be able to tell anyone the small part of the address that he did know.

The green flames enveloped him and he spun through the floo, stopping abruptly in the living-room fireplace. He was immediately confronted with the sight of the giant Black family tree tapestry on the wall opposite. Sirius felt his face twist in loathing as his eyes found the burnt spot where Andromeda's name used to be. Stepping from the grate, Sirius dragged his trunk behind him and onto the hearthrug, glancing around apprehensively. His mother and Regulus had left to the room before he even arrived.

He hated this house with a passion that nearly frightened him. He hated its twisted, gothic furniture; all carved from the darkest wood. He hated the heavy velvet draperies and overly-intricate tapestries that graced the walls, making the house seem even gloomier than it would otherwise.

Sirius's spine tingled at the heavy, but familiar overtones of dark magic that seemed to permeate the air in Grimmauld Place. He longed to turn around and step back into the fire, spinning away to the bright, cheerful home of the Potters.

"Get to your room and stop cluttering up the lounge," a cold voice said from the doorway, making him jump. Sirius jerked his head towards the door and felt his eyebrows arch into his hairline in surprise as he saw his father standing there. Orion Black was very rarely at home, preferring to avoid his family in favour of the ever-changing pureblood politics of Europe. At the rare moments when Sirius had glimpsed him at home, Orion ignored his firstborn son with the same negligent arrogance with which he treated the house elves.

"Are you here for the summer?" Sirius asked, before he could stop himself.

Anger flared on Orion's face. "How dare you address me in such a manner,  _Gryffindor blood traitor_?"

Sirius grimaced, hating the way that the word, 'Gryffindor' sounded like an insult coming from his father's mouth. It was hard to be proud of being a lion in a pit full of snakes.

"Are you here for the summer,  _sir_?" he reiterated, completely unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. He cursed his inner Marauder as his father turned an even more impressive shade of non-Slytherin scarlet. Orion Black was a tall, aristocratic man with a neatly trimmed greying beard and grey eyes. He had been handsome in his youth, but like his wife, was going slightly to seed. The anger and revulsion now twisting his face only served to emphasise the fact that his pale skin looked waxen and lined, and his previously slim form was marred with a paunch that spoke of too much good European food and too little exercise.

"If you don't watch that mouth of yours, you'll go the same way your mudblood loving cousin went!" Orion gestured viciously towards the tapestry.

"I would, but my nose gets in the way," Sirius said. His common sense had retreated to some hidden corner of his mind and was currently bashing its head against the wall.

Before he could blink, he felt his breath knocked from his chest as his father sent a curse at him that slammed him back against the mantelpiece. His head jarred painfully against the mirror above the fireplace.

"If I wasn't leaving for France tomorrow evening, I would spend the summer teaching you respectable behaviour." Orion strode across the room to stand over Sirius who was blinking fuzzily from his impact with the mantelpiece. "As it is, I will leave the task to your mother. Now get to your room!"

Sirius's common sense took advantage of his momentary concussion and prevented Sirius from thanking his father for answering the question he had asked in the first place. He waited until Orion had left the room, before gingerly climbing to his feet. He swayed a little and reached up to feel the lump forming on the back of his head. His heart was hammering, although he couldn't have said if it was from fear, rage or hate.

Slowly, he made his way back over to his trunk and began to drag it from the room and into the hall, taking pleasure in the long scratch it left on the dark, polished floorboards. He stopped when he saw Regulus standing on the staircase leading up from the hallway.

"What are you looking at?" Sirius snapped, humiliated by the fact that his little brother had heard his exchange with their father. Regulus flinched.

" _Silence_ , you mudblood-loving BLOOD TRAITOR who pollutes the house of our forefathers!"

Sirius jumped and swung round at the sound of his mother's voice. His eyes came to rest on a gigantic portrait of Walburga that hung on the long wall beside the front door. The artist had done his best, but nothing could disguise the almost animalistic cruelty that twisted the painted face as it stared down on the Black heir.

"Well, that's a charming new addition to the family home," Sirius muttered, staring up at his mother's magnified face with resentment. "As if I didn't get enough grief with just one of you lurking around."

" _SILENCE!_ " The portrait shrieked. " _Show some respect for you betters!_ "

"I would if I could see some," Sirius retorted.

The following jumbled string of curses and hexes that spewed from the portrait's mouth practically blistered the air.

Sirius swung round and stalked up the stairs, dragging his trunk behind him. He ignored Regulus who pressed himself fearfully against the banister when he saw Sirius's expression.

 _Months more of this,_ Sirius thought miserably.  _Weeks and weeks without the Marauders or school or Gryffindors. Weeks and weeks without Moony. How the hell am I going to survive?_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius hadn't planned on going to dinner that evening with his family. Usually, they were happy to see as little of him as possible, but that night, Kreacher popped into Sirius's room, a smirk on his twisted little face.

"The Master and Mistress expect Master Sirius dressed and down for dinner in fifteen minutes," he told Sirius in tones of great relish, then added in a mutter; "Kreacher hopes the nasty little blood-traitor will get his punishment for besmirching the Noble House of Bl – "

His high, grating voice was cut off by the ropes that wound around his body and head from Sirius's wand until only his furious, beady little eyes were visible. Sirius felt himself shaking with anger as he stared at the little figure in front of him. Kreacher was gasping for breath and thrashing furiously. Sirius flicked his wand again, banishing Kreacher to the kitchen.

"See if there's someone in there willing to untie you, you disgusting little toerag," he muttered under his breath. Reluctantly, he opened his trunk and began rooting through it for the dress robes that he hadn't worn since the last family dinner he had been forced to attend the previous summer.

He pulled out books, his school uniform, various pranking items and chocolate; all of which he flung uncaringly on the pristine floor of his elf-cleaned bedroom. He came across a muggle plastic bag and opened it to find the posters of bikini-clad girls and motorbikes. His mouth pulled itself into the first smile he had given since getting on the train in Hogsmeade. This was a perfect way to get his own back for that monstrosity hanging in the hall. And it would be a good way to pass the time he spent stuck in this room.

" _SIRIUS BLACK!_ " His mother's voice – whether portrait or real, Sirius couldn't tell – spurred him into action again and after a few more minutes of rummaging, he finally pulled out his rather wrinkled dress robes and flung them on.

He launched himself down the stairs and ignored the shriek in the hall of: "How  _dare_  you run about so  _recklessly_ in the noble house of your ancestors!" Skidding to a halt outside the dining room, he tried to catch his breath as he slowly pushed the door open.

His family were already seated at the table and he felt pinned by their intense, disgusted gazes.

" _Sit!_ " Orion snapped, and Sirius hurried quickly to a chair and sank into it. "I have just been informing your mother that she has been extremely lax in her discipline when dealing with you," his father continued. "You get away with far too much, and it's time that learned to behave in a proper pureblood fashion."

"You mean a proper  _Slytherin_  fashion." It was at times like this that Sirius cursed his complete inability to keep his mouth shut.

" _Don't you DARE interrupt me while I am speaking!_ " Orion roared so suddenly that Sirius shrank back and Regulus gave a little hiccough of surprise.

"As I was saying," Orion said, his voice returning to oily smoothness. "Your mother has not been punishing you as severely as she should have been. I have had reports from your school of your atrocious behaviour, your many detentions and your vendetta against all those counted noble enough to be in Slytherin. Your jealousy is obviously eating at you, but you will not be allowed to continue in this manner."

Sirius seethed silently, but didn't dare interrupt again.

"Regulus also wrote to inform us that you have been indulging in several romantic relations with  _mudblood_  Gryffindor girls. These will stop immediately. You  _will_ do you duty as heir, and we will arrange a marriage with a suitable pureblood family when you are of age."

Sirius sent a poisonous glare towards his little brother and Regulus sank low in his seat, a flush of shame on his cheeks. Sirius could only be glad that no one seemed to have guessed about his relationship with Remus. He wasn't sure he would ever survive that one.

Food began appearing on their plates from the kitchen and Orion was distracted for a time. Sirius picked at his, keeping a wary eye on his parents.

"Regulus!"

Regulus jumped and choked on his food as Orion addressed him. "Yes, father?" He whispered when he had recovered.

"You mother tells me you are thinking about trying out as Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team?"

"Yes, sir," he murmured again. "Lucius Malfoy is leaving this year, so the position will be open."

"I have purchased a gift for you as a reward for your loyalty to this family and your House." He sent a meaningful glare in Sirius's direction. " _Perry!_ "

A house elf appeared at Orion's side with a crack causing both Sirius and Regulus to jump. It handed a long, wrapped package to Orion, who in turn passed it to Regulus. Regulus nervously fumbled with the package, pulling off the brown paper. His eyes widened when a brand new, glossy broomstick rolled onto the table in front of his plate. Sirius immediately recognised it as the brand new Shooting Star from James's most recent edition of  _Which Broomstick?_

"Thank you, father," Regulus said, his voice awed as he reached out to brush his fingers over the broomstick.

"The broomstick doesn't make the player," Sirius snapped before he could help himself. "You actually need some talent as well. Or are you going to bribe your way onto the Slytherin team? Buy them all new broomsticks?" He knew it was hurt and a touch of jealousy driving his mouth but he just couldn't seem to stop himself.

"How  _dare_ you!" This time it was his mother's voice and Sirius winced. " _Kreacher!_ " The ugly little house elf popped up at her elbow and sneered at Sirius. "I think our eldest son needs a stint in the cellar to remind him of his manners. Don't give him anything to eat until he is released tomorrow evening." Kreacker looked delighted, which never boded well.

"Bloody Slytherins!" Sirius shrieked, struggling as the house elf's magic bound him and lifted him from his seat. His own voice reminded him disturbingly of Bellatrix in one of her tempers, but he was too far gone to really care. He felt a tug as his wand flew into his mother's hand from his pocket. He guessed she was trying to demonstrate to his father that her discipline really was up to scratch. "Bloody Blacks! I hate you all! All of you! You hear that?  _I hate you all!_ "

His family ignored him as he was levitated from the room, through the kitchen and down the stairs to the wine cellars. The door was slammed close and he was plunged into darkness. Fear kickstarted his heart into a violent hammering that battered against his ribcage. As soon as he felt Kreacher's bonds leaving him, he fumbled his way to the corner of the room where the old wooden wheelbarrow laden with wine-barrels was where Regulus hid candles and parchment for him.

Sirius scrabbled around beneath the wheelbarrow desperately. His fingers grazed an old scrap of torn parchment, but there were no candles or matches waiting for him. It felt like the ultimate betrayal.

There were things living in the dark, Sirius was sure of it. The house was so ingrained with dark magic that the shadows of the cellars had come alive – malevolent demon-like creatures with eyes that stared and stared and silent feet that came closer and closer the longer he was down here. They were waiting for the moment when his guard fell and then they would…who knew what they would do? Sirius was petrified of finding out.

He scrambled away from the dark corner of the room, trying not to think about the heavy shadows that crouched unevenly between the wine barrels that lined the walls.

He backed away to the tiny line of light that filtered in under the door and crouched down beside it, his eyes searching the blackness for movement. They were there – the shadow creatures. He knew it. He could feel their eyes in the dark.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

When he was finally released the next evening, Sirius's eyes were dry, itchy and red from a day and night of constant searching, hardly daring to blink for fear of the shadow-demons. He stumbled blindly from the cellar and through the kitchen, ignoring the portrait that spat in disgust at the sight of him as he made his way through the hall and up to his room.

His wand was lying on his bed, but the mess he had made when pulling things out of his trunk in search of his dress robes was still there. The house elves were obviously not going to tidy up after a blood traitor like him. Sirius was relieved. He didn't want to think of their grasping little fingers on his belongings.

He pulled off the sweaty dress robes he was wearing and flung them to the floor, grabbing some clean clothes from his trunk and hurrying down the hall to the bathroom. He filled up the silver-snake-footed bathtub and sunk into the warm water with relief, glad of the magical light which permeated the whole room. For the first time in what felt like centuries, he allowed his eyes to fall closed for a while.

Now, in the brilliant light of the gleaming bathroom, his fears seemed stupid and childish. He dreaded that someone other than Regulus might find out about them. Not much chance of that, he supposed gloomily. Sirius just prayed that Remus would never know how much of a coward he was. Remus, who had gone through so much more than Sirius. What would he say if he knew his brave, reckless boyfriend was afraid of the dark?

By the time he returned to his room, Sirius was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to make sure the room was lit as brightly as he could manage, before falling into bed and sleeping. The only thing that stopped him was his knowledge that Remus's transformation was this evening.

He went to his trunk and tried to prevent his jaw cracking from his yawns as he scrabbled round for a piece of parchment and a quill. He sat down at his desk and tried to think of what to say. It had to sound upbeat and cheerful. He couldn't bear to think of Remus tearing himself apart – literally – in his worry for Sirius.

_Dear Moony,_

Now what? Sirius stared sleepily at the paper. "Concentrate!" he told himself sternly.

_How was your you-know-what? I wish more than anything I was there for you after the moon. I've had loads of extra time over the holidays as I don't like coming out my room. I've been practising becoming Padfoot. Not much success so far, sadly._

Not really true, but he had every intention of staying in his room and out of the way of his family. That would leave him time for practicing his animagus transformation. What to tell him? Remus wouldn't believe he was completely happy here, but he needed something a little bit bad to report to put the intelligent boy off track. The answer came to him as his eyes drifted over the muggle posters that were still lying on his floor.

_My mother had a portrait done of herself while we were at school. She hung it up in the hall with ever-lasting sticking charms. It's worse than she is, I swear. Every time I walk through the hall it starts yelling abuse at me. I plan on getting revenge, though. Remember those posters I bought at Christmas? The ones of the naked girls and the motorbikes? Well, I'm going to stick them all to my walls with the same charm she used for that bloody portrait. That'll show her! I'd rather have lots of naked Moonys on my wall, but even I'm not that suicidal. Plus I don't have any naked Moony pics…hint, hint._

Yes, just enough humour, even if it was a humour he really didn't feel right now. He yawned again and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. That was long enough. He was too exhausted to write to James, but at least Remus would be reassured.

_Anyway, I hope you recovered okay. Are you able to come to James's in mid-August? My parents and darling Regulus are going to France then, so I'm sneaking off to the Potters. Until that day, I will be pining for you presence._

_Oodles of love and post-moon-cuddles for mini-you,_

_Padfoot_

_PS: Isn't 'oodles' an awesome word? It reminds me of noodles and poodles and strudels and other things ending in 'oodles'…_

Good enough. Sirius read it through a couple of times to be sure, then opened his bedroom window and whistled piercingly for one of the family owls. There was a clatter from the small wooden owlry in the garden, then a fierce-looking barn owl landed on the windowsill. He attached the letter and watched it fly from sight before closing the window again and falling back onto his bed. Sleep was good. For now, sleep was what he needed.

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Orion left the next day. Sirius heard him bellowing orders to the house elves from the living room as he prepared to floo to the family house in France. He felt a shudder of relief run through him. His mother was spiteful and malicious, and her punishments had plagued him and damaged him all his life. But it was his father whom he was truly afraid of.

The Black family insanity ran strongly through Orion's branch of the family and when he lost his temper, Sirius was sure he could see it rearing up in his eyes. It reminded him rather unnervingly of the way the wolf flared in Remus's eyes at times but - whereas the wolf was feral, untameable and wild – the thing that rose in Orion's eyes was much slyer and more intelligently cruel. It hinted at insanity powered by a viciously agile intellect and the thought of that combination frightened Sirius more than anything else.

His mother and brother saw it too, Sirius knew. The way they fawned over the Black Patriarch would have made Sirius slightly nauseous if he didn't have a strong, self-preserving urge to do the same.

Sirius decided to stay in his room in the days after his father's departure, until the fire of his mother's desire to discipline him had died down a bit. The house elves reluctantly brought him small portions of food twice a day and Sirius spent most of the time practising his animagus transformation with little success.

On the third day of his self-willed confinement, he gave up in frustration and threw himself on the bed. He wondered why Remus had not replied to his letter. Perhaps his transformation had gone very badly and he was seriously injured. Or perhaps he had not recovered his mind. Sirius longed to floo him and find out, but that would mean venturing into the main lounge and probably earning another long stint in the cellar if he was caught. And he was almost positive his mother would have changed the password needed to use it if his exclusion from the fidelius charm was any indication.

By the time the fifth day rolled around, Sirius was feeling the urge to claw his way through his own skin in boredom and worry. It was early evening, and he climbed up onto his windowsill to stare out of his window at the not-quite-full moon. He actually felt nauseous when he though about why Remus might not have replied

Sirius had written another letter and tried to call one of the post owls again to deliver it, but none had come to his whistle. What on earth could be happening to Remus? He could only hope that James and Peter were with him.

As Sirius stared out over the garden, his eye was caught by the ghostly shape of a barn owl as it flew from the lounge window downstairs and out over the garden below to the owlry. His heart caught in his throat. It had been a barn owl that delivered his message. Maybe Remus  _had_ replied, but his mother had ordered the owls to deliver any mail for Sirius directly to her.

Sirius leapt off the windowsill and sprinted to his door. Then he paused, his hand on the door handle. There was no way he would be able to prevent his mother from reading the messages. He could only hope that Remus hadn't written anything incriminating. He walked back over to his bed and sat on it, putting his head in his hands. He would wait until late that night when his mother and Regulus had gone to bed, he decided. Then he would creep downstairs into the lounge and try to floo Remus to check that he was okay and warn him about his letters.

Sirius's heart jumped happily in his chest at the thought of seeing Remus again. Yes, that's what he would do. Check that Remus was okay with his own eyes.

The evening seemed to go on forever. Sirius lay on his bed, listening to the grating voice of his mother – both portrait and real - echoing through the house, as it shrieked orders and abuse at Regulus and the house elves respectively. Eventually, he heard footsteps on the stairs and the doors to Regulus's and his mother's rooms closing.

He left it another two hours before he crept out of his room, along the long passage, down the stairs to the hall where his mother's portrait-self was snoozing against the frame, and into the lounge.

His stomach was crunched up in nerves and excitement, and he felt properly alive for the first time that summer.

Sirius grabbed a handful of floo power from the urn on the mantelpiece, murmured a fire spell at the grate, then flung the powder into the flames. They spluttered green for a second, before going back to orange. Sirius's heart sunk. His mother really was getting paranoid. He would need a password to floo anyone. If he tried to stick his head into these flames, it would be burnt.

He tried twice more, before admitting defeat and heading back to his room, his heart heavy in his chest. He flung himself back onto his bed and stared up at the canopy above him. He wished he could stop thinking of all the things that might be wrong with Remus. What if he was wrong and his mother wasn't intercepting his letters? What if Remus was dangerously ill, or stuck as his child-like self and calling for Sirius? And if that was so, why didn't James or Peter write to him?

Sirius groaned and sat up. "Titcha!" He called softly, deciding to use the house elf with the least obvious dislike of him. There was a soft crack and Titcha appeared, blinking sleepily around Sirius's room. When he spotted Sirius, the expression tightened on his pointed little face and he gave a stiff nod. "Yes, Master Sirius?"

"I need alcohol," Sirius said to him. "Lots of alcohol. Firewhiskey, wine, mead – I don't care. I just want to stop thinking and go to sleep.

Titcha frowned. "Those are the master's drinks."

"I don't care. It was an order. Make sure he won't notice. And don't you dare tell  _anyone_. Including the other house elves."

Titcha obviously struggled to find a way around the order, then scowled, gave a resigned nod, and disappeared with another soft crack.

He returned a few minutes later with a half a decanter of firewhiskey and two glass bottles of wine. "Is this enough, Master Sirius?" he asked, with a pronounced sneer on his face.

"Yes. Go now."

Sirius carefully opened the firewhiskey and sniffed. If anything would get him good and drunk it was this. He took a tentative sip and gasped as the fiery liquid burned down his throat.

"Am I a Gryffindor, or am I a Gryffindor?" he murmured, before putting the decanter to his lips again and gulping down several burning mouthfuls. His head immediately began spinning and his eyes streamed. Sirius wondered if he would ever taste anything again or if his taste buds really were as dissolved as they took another gulp. It felt more warm than burning this time, probably because the nerves in his mouth had shut down in self defence. It didn't take long to finish the bottle and by that time he was comfortably drunk.

 _Remus will be fine_ , his drunken mind assured him.  _His letters are just not getting through. You're worrying for nothing._

"S'right!" he agreed out loud. "N'he got M'rau…M'rad…M'raud'rs with 'im."

The empty decanter dropped from his hand and landed on a pile of rolled papers by his bed. He stared blearily at them for a moment before realising they were his posters. This, he thought, was the perfect time to get his mother back for that monstrosity in the hall.  _And_  for stealing Remus's, and possibly James's and Peter's letters as well.

He pulled the posters up onto his bed, relieved that many years previously his Great Uncle Alphard had taught him the permanent sticking charm to aid him in his mischief. After all, hadn't he promised Remus he would stick the posters up? He couldn't lie to someone as good as Remus.

"Bloody brill'ant boy," he agreed with himself.

Sirius set about rather haphazardly redecorating his room with everything he knew his mother would despise. He transfigured an old robe into a brilliantly scarlet and gold Gryffindor banner and stuck it on his wall.

After a few more gulps of wine from one of the other bottles Titcha had bought, Sirius's lingering feelings of nervousness and doubt seemed to burn away. He set about sticking the posters to the wall as well, making sure that the motionless, bikini-clad muggle girls were clearly visible from the door, and the motorbikes covered every spare space. They were even cooler that he remembered and he vowed to get one and learn to ride it as soon as possible.

Finally, he dug around in his chest for a photo of the Marauders that Frank Longbottom had taken one day after a Quidditch match last autumn. It depicted the four of them together, their faces alight with happiness and camaraderie. He reached out and brushed a rather shaky finger lightly over photo-Remus who leaned into the touch, his smile widening even further. A sharp ache rose in Sirius's chest and throat, and he rapidly blinked away the moisture that rose in his eyes, embarrassed at the way the alcohol brought all his emotions to the surface.

He turned and stuck the photo of the wall right beside his bed and put a protection charm on it as well to prevent anyone damaging it.

By the time he had finished his redecorating, he was swaying and exhausted. He dropped into bed, keeping his lights lit as usual, and fell asleep with the image of Marauders together in front of his eyes.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

" _SIRIUS BLACK!_ "

Sirius leapt awake so violently that he tumbled from his bed. Silver daggers of pain seemed to be searing through his head from his eyeballs. His brain, he was sure, had been transfigured into cotton wool by a malevolent house elf.

" _Sirius Black, how DARE you!_ "

Sirius opened his eyes and was met by a blurry rectangular image in red and gold. He blinked rapidly and his room came into focus. Sirius wished that it hadn't. The walls were plastered in posters of motorbikes, half-naked muggle girls and a giant Gryffindor banner. If his mother ever killed him it would be for this.

"… _Sneaking out of bed at night and STEALING FLOO POWDER like a COMMON THIEF!…_ "

He could hear his mother's footsteps storming up the stairs and launched himself desperately towards the door. He couldn't let her see his room like this. What the  _hell_ had he been thinking? He had never seriously intended to stick up the posters – especially after his father's threats and his mother's increasingly rabid attempts to discipline him.

His feet became entangled in his bedspread and he sprawled to the floor. His head was splitting open in agony.

"… _Punish you so severely that –_ "

The door banged open and Sirius froze on the floor where he was trying to disentangle himself from his bedclothes. His mother, for the first time that Sirius could ever remember, was speechless. Her face was slack with horror and shock as she took in his new wall decorations. Regulus hovered behind her in the doorway, his mouth and eyes open so widely that he resembled a well-bred bowling ball.

Sirius watched apprehensively as Walburga's black eyes moved from the muggle girls positioned directly opposite the doorway, to the motorbikes, the Gryffindor banner, the photo of the Marauders, and finally to the three almost empty bottles that lay beside Sirius's bed.

Finally, she said in a voice so quiet and full of loathing that it barely sounded human: "You will remove these at once. You will burn them. Then you will be taken to the cellar along with a self-scourgifying bucket for your filth, and will be left in there until I see fit to free you."

Sirius felt sick with a mixture of blind fear and his hangover. He could barely focus on his mother as he forced himself to answer. "I can't remove them. Nor can you. I used the same charm you used for that bloody portrait of yours in the hall." The last was a said with a touch of his old defiance, but it withered under her black-ice stare.

" _Kreacher!_ "

The house elf appeared with a crack, and he almost toppled over in shock when he spotted the walls of Sirius's room. "Y-y-yes, Mistress?" he stammered, his eyes almost as wide as Regulus's.

"You will take Sirius to the kitchen, punish him and lock him in the cellar until I inform you to release him. He will receive no food until I say so."

Kreacher looked like all his birthdays had come at once. His beady little eyes gleamed with malice as Sirius felt the now-familiar sensation of the elf's magic wrap around him in ropes. He was floated over the heads of his mother and Regulus, unable to protest as his mouth was sealed shut. His eyes met his little brother's, and Regulus opened his mouth as though he were going to say something. Then he glanced sideways at their mother and he closed it again without a word.

When Sirius reached the kitchen, he was pinned against the table and subjected to the invisible lashes of house elf magic for so long that he thought he might pass out with the pain. Although there would be no permanent physical damage from the punishment, the house elf's magic meant that he never grew used to the pain and every lash felt as bad as the first. Even though he knew no wounds were being left, it felt as though every lash flayed open the skin of his back and filled each wound with acid. Unable to help himself, he begged for them to stop, crying out in pain in time to the rhythmic whipping.

By the time Kreacher released him and tossed him into he cellar, he was half sobbing, half panting, his body spasming slightly. There were no signs of his beating, but his nerves remembered the pain and were paying him back for it.

It was only fifteen minutes later, when the throbbing in his head had receded slightly and the spasms had stopped that he realised the full implications of his situation. He was now trapped in the pitch-dark, candle-less cellar, with no release in the foreseeable future. How would he stay awake that long? He couldn't even contemplate falling asleep here in this tomb of shadows with their eyes and velvet paws that crept closer and closer…

 _Moony had worse than this_ , he told himself sternly.  _He was beaten and burned and close to death by the time we got to him._

Another part of him said;  _he had light. He had a bed. I am down here and it's cold and I swear I can feel something looking at me from that corner. I wish you were here, Moony. If you were here I could be brave. If James or even Peter were here I could be brave. But you will never be able to rescue me, because the damn house is under Fidelius. There is no bloody way I am ever getting out of here until my mother releases me._

He shifted closer to the door and crouched beside the thin line of light that filtered underneath it. The stone of the floor was icy cold, in spite of the fact that it was summer, and Sirius's stomach growled with hunger. It was made worse by the fact that he wasn't even sure when he would be eating again.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Time had never dragged so much. With no way to tell whether it was day or night, no candles burning, no one to talk to, it was impossible to tell whether he had been there hours, days or even weeks. After a long time, his headache began to fade and Sirius almost missed it because now that his mind was clear, his brain began to concoct more and more elaborate pictures of what could be living in the walls and seeping through the shadows of this dark-magic soaked cellar.

He wished his mind could go back to being fuzzy again. Time would pass more quickly if – THERE! Sirius jerked and squinted into the darkness. He was sure he saw something moving in the shadows where the wooden barrow stood in the corner. Almost as if something were settling in there for a long wait.

_Just your imagination, Sirius._

More time passed and his eyes began to water as he kept them fixed on the corner with unwavering determination. His mouth was dry with fear and he felt almost dizzy with thirst and exhaustion. He was sure he had been down there more than a day now, though no one had come to check on him.

The shadows-creatures were getting braver. He saw more and more flickering movement against the walls. He wondered if it was possible to get a heart attack if your heart thundered this violently for such an extended period of time. If only –

THERE,  _THERE!_

In the dim light filtering under the door, Sirius was positive he saw the small, inky shape of a shadow-demon scuttling between two barrels. He could have sworn he even saw a gleam of eyes.

It was too much. Sirius began pounding at the door and screaming to his mother. " _LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE! I'LL BE GOOD! I'LL BE –_ "

 _There!_ He was positive this time. He heard claws skittering over the stone.

Completely forgetting his Gryffindor bravery, he resumed his pounding on the door, his screaming, his pleading. He thought he might have heard Kreacher chuckling outside the door once, but no one came to let him out.

He wasn't sure how long he had been screaming before his voice cracked and gave out, sending him into a violent fit of coughing that made his eyes water. Sirius desperately tried to blink away the tears so he could keep a clear view of the shadow-infested room around him.

He was so, so thirsty. He couldn't ever remember being this thirsty before. He wasn't cold, though. His fear kept him warm, even though he was only dressed in the thin trousers and shirt he had fallen asleep in.

Unable to scream anymore, Sirius lay down beside the door again and stared out into the dark. Hours passed, or maybe even days. His thirst got so bad, he could barely even keep his mind on the shadow-demons anymore. If only he had something to drink…

Sirius sat up, cursing himself. He  _did_ have something to drink! Barrels and barrels of something-to-drink. He was surrounded by them. There was one two feet to his left, clearly visible in the dim, dim light from under the door.

He scrambled to his knees and fumbled with the lid, working his nails and fingers under it until they were bleeding. Eventually, a piece broke off with a snap, sending Sirius sprawling into the deep shadows. Panting with terror, he scrambled back into his tiny circle of thin light. He swore he could hear chuckling and gurgling from the shadows as they retreated again.

Kneeling beside the barrel, Sirius jammed his hand roughly into the small hole left by the broken-off piece of the lid, uncaring of the scratches and splinters he received. He pressed his face close and began slurping up the wine desperately. He almost immediately felt his head growing fuzzy, as he had not eaten in so long, but he could not bring his dehydrated body to stop.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Sirius?"

Sirius blearily tried to focus on the fuzzy light emerging from under the door, trying to decide whether he had imagined the voice. "Reg?" he tried.

"Yes, it's me."

"You come t'let me out?"

"I…n-no. I can't. You don't understand. Dad flooed and Mum told him about you and he said she wasn't to let you out until he – "

"Lemme  _out!_ " Sirius begged, scratching a the door. " _Please,_ Reg! You don' unnerstan'! The shadow-thingies get me n'here. Please!  _PLEASE!_ "

"I  _can't_! Weren't you listening?"

"Then why th' _hell_ d'you come here?"

"Sirius…" Regulus's voice sounded worried. "Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?"

" _They'll get me! They'll ge'me, 'n it'll be all YOUR fault!_ "

"Sirius, didn't you – "

" _LET ME OUT!_ " Sirius began hammering on the door again, even as another coughing fit overtook him as his abused throat protested at more screaming.

"Sirius,  _please!_ "

" _I HATE you! Y'hear that? I HATE you! You're no brother 'o mine!_ "

"Sirius – "

" _IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU!_ "

"Fine! Fine! You know what? I hate you too! This is  _your_ fault and you deserve everything you get!" Regulus's voice grew shrill. "I hope you  _rot_ in there like the  _disgusting_ Gryffindor scum that you are!"

His angry footsteps moved away from the door and Sirius was left in the heavy darkness with only the scuttling, chucking shadows as company. The following hours seemed to drag even more that usual. His head, throat and fists ached, the wine blurred his mind and he desperately tried to keep his eyes on the shadows as he vomited again and again into his self-scourgifying bucket.

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Kreacher brought him a tiny plate of food at one point. Sirius was too drunk, and too busy watching the shadows to notice it for nearly two hours. He only discovered it when he scrambled out of the way of one of the shadow-demons and put his hand in the cold stew.

He gulped it down so fast, his stomach protested and he only just made it to his bucket in time. He had to wait another day and a half before he was given more. He only managed two mouthfuls before he began to feel nauseous again.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Iss justa dream, Sirius told himself. Th'worl' behind th'cellar door 's jussa dream 'cos he'd been down'ere f'rever, 'n if you've been some place f'rever, you can'ta been anywhere els' right? Right.

M'rauders…jussa dream. 'N Remus…wunnerful, wunnerful Moony…All jussa dream to escape th' shadows thingies with a eyes, an' a scuttling, scuttling feets. No, feet, not feets. Moony wouldn' like him sayin' feets… But why'dit matter, cos Moony was jussa dream…


	50. Not Quite a Person

_"Darkness does not leave us easily as we would hope."_

_(Margaret Stohl)_

**REMUS:**

It was four 'o clock in the morning when Remus woke to a loud tapping. He sat up quickly, buzzing with adrenaline as his eyes flicked round his darkened room and his nose sought the source of the noise. His nerves had been on edge ever since Sirius had stopped writing. The wolf paced just beneath the surface of his control, and he knew from the concerned and wary looks that Angela and Neil shot him from time to time that they spotted Moony behind his eyes.

There was a rustling from the hay-filled basket beside his bed, and he reached out a soothing hand to stroke Hamish's head as the hedgehog peered over the edge. The tapping noise came again and Remus's head jerked towards the window, his nostrils flaring. The tapping came again accompanied, this time, by an impatient hooting. Remus sighed in relief. It was just an owl.

He shoved his covers aside and climbed out of bed to let the owl in his window. When he spotted the bird seated on his windowsill, his heart gave a leap of joy. It was the barn owl that had delivered Sirius's letter at the beginning of summer. Sirius was okay!

He jerked the window open, uncaring of the fact he had neglected to unlatch it and tore a great chunk of the frame out in his hurry. The owl swooped into his room, perched on the back of his desk chair and held out its leg imperiously. Attached to it was a thick wad of letters.

With shaking hands, Remus reached out and unfastened the letter from the bird's leg. As soon as it was free, the owl launched itself off the chair and out the window.

"No, wait!" Remus cried, running back to the window and calling after it. He wanted to be able to write back to Sirius straight away, and the Anders' owl was away delivering his latest letter to James.

The owl ignored him, and continued its ghostly flight back to the Blacks' house.

Slowly, Remus returned to his desk and sat on his chair, looking down at the folded parchments in his hand. The one on top was written on the familiar good-quality parchment that the Black family used. He brought it up to his nose to inhale Sirius's scent. The smell that filled his nostrils turned out to be just a little different to the one he'd longed for.

"Regulus," he whispered.

He glanced at the other letters and suddenly recognised his own handwriting on the top one. With trembling fingers, he ripped open Regulus's letter, uncaring that it tore a little round the seal.  _Stupid Remus,_  he thought to himself. Sirius would never seal his letters with the Black family crest. What had he been thinking?  _You weren't thinking at all,_ he admonished himself,  _you were hoping. Stupid, stupid Remus. Haven't you had enough life lessons yet to know to always expect the worse?_

He steeled himself and turned his eyes to what was written in the letter.

_12 Grimmauld Place, London_

_Don't make me regret this, Lupin. Get in, get him, get out. I'm putting my whole family at risk. No Aurors. You have been warned. I have enclosed the letters you sent. Stop sending them. He's not getting them, and I only just stopped my mother from intercepting them. I haven't read them. You can see they're still sealed._

_We leave for France on the 16_ _th_ _August. The house will be empty except for house elves._

_Consider my debt to you for that day in the dungeons paid._

_Regulus Black_

Remus felt his heart try to soar with relief at the fact he now had access to Sirius, while his stomach simultaneously scrunched up and settled in an uncomfortable lump at the thought of how bad things were if Regulus felt he had to send this letter.

Remus leapt to his feet, pausing only to catch Hamish who had tried to dive head-first out of his basket in Remus's direction, determined not to be left behind. Remus dropped the little animal into his pyjama-shirt pocket as he raced out of his room and towards the one that Neil and Angela shared next door.

He burst in and found himself immediately pinned against the wall with a wand to his throat. Moony kicked in and there was a blur of blood-red confusion that slowly cleared until Remus found himself on the floor, straddling Neil's chest with the man's hands pinned above his head as his wand skittered away under the bed.

" _Remus!_ Remus! It's me! It's Neil!"

Remus shook his head and stared down at his adoptive father's wide-eyed face. Although Neil was panting in pain and shock, Remus wasn't even out of breath. He jerked to his senses and scrambled off Neil's chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But you attacked me and Moony took over." He patted Neil's neck and chest trying to determine if he had really hurt the man.

"Moony?" Neil wheezed.

"The w-wolf."

Neil sat up an rubbed his chest. "I'm sorry too. Auror senses – you burst in and I reacted without thinking. What's wrong, Remus? You've never woken us up like this before."

"I got a l-letter from Regulus."

"Who's Regulus?"

Remus looked up at Angela's voice and saw her leaning over the edge of her bed to peer down at them. Her curly blonde hair stood out wildly from her head and the brightly coloured pictures of flowers on her nightgown appeared to be magically charmed to grow rapidly from seeds into full flowers, then shrink back to their original state again. Remus wondered how Neil managed to get any sleep without feeling seasick.

"Regulus Black. Sirius's brother. Am I right, Remus?"

Remus nodded as Neil answered the question. He held out the letter and Neil took it carefully and opened it, his eyes scanning the contents.

"'That day in the dungeons'?" Neil questioned, looking at Remus.

Remus closed his eyes and looked away. "That's not the point. The point is that Sirius is obviously in trouble and now we can go and get him."

"We can't just break into someone's house and kidnap their son."

"But there's something  _wrong_!"

"We have no proof of that," Angela said gently, as she took the letter from her husband's hand and skimmed it.

"Yes we do," Remus said stubbornly. "Regulus is terrified of breaking rules and getting into trouble. He is one of life's born followers. The only way he would ever do something drastic is if Sirius was in really bad trouble."

Angela and Neil shared a look and Remus slammed his fist down on a floorboard by his leg. It buckled a little and Hamish wriggled in his pocket in surprise. Remus stroked his head apologetically. "Don't you  _trust_ me?"

"Maybe we should go and talk to Mr Potter," Neil said. "He's a head Auror and he'll know how best to approach this situation."

"But Regulus said no Aurors," Remus pointed out, feeling a flash of guilt at the thought of betraying the boy after he had done the bravest thing in his life.

"He meant Aurors in an official capacity," Neil said. "He meant he didn't want Aurors having access to the Black house and finding out exactly how much illegal dark magic is practised there. If we go, it will just be us. We'll be breaking as many laws by entering their house as they do by practicing the dark arts."

"Are you sure?"

Neil's eyes softened. "I promise. Do you trust me, lad?"

Remus hesitated, then nodded, giving Neil a shy smile and receiving one in return. "So we'll go see the Potters then," he said.

Remus groaned and pulled himself to his feet. "I'll run and put some clothes on. We have to go now."

"It's the middle of the night, lad." Neil stood as well and put a restraining hand on his arm. "I know you're worried, but don't you think it might be best to wait a little while until the sun rises at least?"

Remus glowered at him and felt Moony rise and peer warningly through his eyes. "It's the sixteenth today. Regulus said they would be gone. I'm going to find him today with or without your help, so don't try to stop me." His voice had dropped much lower than it usually did, only just above a growl.

Neil carefully removed his hand from Remus's arm and stepped back slowly to indicate that he meant the wolf no harm. Remus felt Moony subside and go back to his pacing. "S-sorry," he murmured, unable to keep from flinching as Neil stepped forward again at his apology.

"Remus, you  _do_  know that we will never punish you for something you can't help like the wolf breaking free when you're upset." Neil spoke gently, but firmly, not making any further moves towards his adopted son.

"Of course I do," Remus murmured. "I'm just tetchy because Moony – " He flinched again, without thinking as Neil's arm made a sudden move towards him. When he realised he had just invalidated his previous statement, he flushed and ducked his head. "Sorry."

"Remus," Angela said, sounding distressed. "You obviously don't know."

"I  _do_!" Remus was frustrated. All he wanted to do was get out of this house and rescue Sirius. He wished he had gone on his own and not informed Angela and Neil about the letter. It had been an odd,  _new_ instinct – one he'd never felt before. It had said to him 'you need help. Run to your parents. They will know what to do.' And he had obeyed it without thinking. When had he become this dependent on other people? When had he lost the strength he had build up over the years he lived with his real father?

"Remus…"

"I  _do_ know," Remus said, forcing himself to remain still and calm when Angela got out of bed and put an arm around him. " _Intellectually_ , I know. But right now I'm all wound up and I just want to go and find Sirius, and it's just instinctive. I  _do_ know. Can we go now?"

He saw Angela and Neil exchange glances over his head, then Neil reluctantly nodded. "All right. Go and get some clothes on. We'll meet you down in the lounge in ten minutes. We'll floo to the Potters from there."

Remus hurried to his room and threw on the first clothes that came to hand. He transferred Hamish into his cloak pocket when the hedgehog gave an indignant snuffle at the idea of being left behind. He knew it was stupid to take his pet on a rescue mission, but he was worried at how close Moony was to the surface, and Hamish seemed to calm his more violent tendencies for some reason. Perhaps it was because – as the Marauders had found out for the animagus spell – animals other than humans soothed the wolf rather than enraging it.

He made his way down to the lounge and stood, fidgeting impatiently beside the scruffy fireplace for Neil and Angela to come down. The two emerged eventually, dressed in neutral robes of dark blue – a rare thing in Angela's case, though her hair was still doing its dandelion impression to compensate. Neil had Regulus's letter clutched tightly in his hand.

"Go on then," he urged as he lit the fire with a flick of his wand.

Remus needed no further prompting and flung the floo powder he had clutched in his hand into the fire. "Potter Manor!"

He knelt down stuck his head into the emerald flames and closed his eyes as his body adjusted to the disconcerting feeling of being in two places at once. When he opened them, he was confronted with the sight of a very curious-looking house elf standing in the Potter's formal lounge.

"Please will you inform Mr Potter and James that I am here?" Remus said.

The house elf hesitated, glancing at the grandfather clock in one corner of the massive room.

"I know you don't want to wake them, but it's an emergency." Remus did his best not to sound as desperate and impatient as he was feeling.

The house elf gave a resigned nod and disappeared with a pop. A few minutes later Remus heard a distant thumping that grew louder and turned into running footsteps, a liquid swish, a clatter, and a faint yell of "Not the banister, James!"

Then the lounge door was flung open and James skidded in, his glasses on crooked, his hair a bird's nest and dressed only in a pair of red-and-white striped pyjama bottoms.

"Come through, Moony." He stuck his hands into the flames and hauled Remus through by his shoulders, causing them both to fall in a heap on the hearthrug. Remus only just avoided squashing Hamish.

"What's wrong?" James asked urgently, then let out a yelp as Neil almost trod on his hand as he followed Remus through the fire. "Professor Anders?"

Mr and Mrs Potter entered the room just as Angela stepped over the grate after her husband.

"What on earth is going on here?" Mr Potter asked, staring around his suddenly well-populated lounge in bemusement.

"I got a l-letter," Remus announced. James's head jerked in his direction when he heard Remus's stutter. Remus's friends were aware that he only gave into the affliction under situations of high stress.

"From who?"

"Regulus."

" _Regulus?_ " James's voice was incredulous. Remus handed the letter over to his friend.

"Regulus Black?" Mr. Potter asked. His hair was as scruffy as James's was, though he had at least taken the time to snag a robe before venturing downstairs.

"'That day in the dungeons'?" James murmured, sending a sideways glance at Remus.

Remus scowled. "Why does everyone focus on that line? It's not the point! We have to go and rescue Sirius!"

"Give the letter to you father, lad," Neil told James, who passed it over.

"I can't believe Regulus wrote to you!" James hissed. "How did you manage that? What do you reckon is wrong with Sirius? When can we go and rescue him? We  _are_ going to rescue him, right?"

Remus sighed. "I didn't, he wrote of his own accord. I have no idea, I know as much as you do. Soon – today if I have any say in it. I guess it's up to your Dad."

James was silent for a few seconds as he matched up Remus's answers to his questions.

"Up to my Dad?"

"Top Auror and all," Remus explained.

"Ah. Not one for the Marauders this time then?"

"Let it never be said we don't know when to hold back when we have to."

"McGonagall wouldn't believe her ears if she heard you saying that."

"She would. I  _am_ the voice of reason in the sea of lunacy that is the Marauders. In spite of any furry little problems that might get in my way."

Angela and Mrs. Potter were sitting on one of the uncomfortably ornate sofas nearby, their eyes flitting between James and Remus, and Neil and Mr. Potter who were poring over Regulus's letter and talking in low voices.

"We're going to go and get him, right, Dad?" James asked, looking to where the men were standing.

" _You're_ not going anywhere," Mr. Potter said.

"We are," both Remus and James said immediately.

"If you think I am letting two underage boys break into the Ancient and Moste Bloody Evil House of Black, you are sorely mistaken – no matter who you're with at the time."

Remus felt Moony rise up furiously in his chest, and didn't even realise he was growling until he noticed Mr Potter take a shocked step back, his wand suddenly pointed at Remus's chest.

"Dad,  _no_!" James stepped in front of Remus, shielding him with his skinny body.

" _Werewolf!_ " Mr Potter stared first at Remus, then at James in shock.

"What?" Mrs Potter rose to her feet and reached out to drag James away from Remus. James shook off her hand and moved to stand in front of his friend again. He was joined quickly by Neil and Angela.

Remus felt fear rise like bile in his throat. Images of silver-tipped whips and axes rose in his mind. Mr Potter was a head Auror. With just one word from him, Remus could be sentenced to a werewolf reservation or even to death. He swayed and felt his back hit the mantelpiece, knees giving out so he slid to the floor behind the protective wall formed by his pack mate and family.

"Your son is a werewolf?" Remus could see through the small gap between James's and Neil's legs that Mr Potter's wand was shaking slightly. He had lowered it the moment James had stepped in front of Remus. "It all makes sense now – why he's so sickly. That nickname the boys give him; Moony!"

Remus gave a terrified whimper, completely unable to help himself. In the back of his mind, a part of him screamed  _'Coward! What kind of Gryffindor are you? You're practically wetting yourself. You're fifteen, you idiot! Coward! Coward!'_

"An incurable disease," Mrs Potter murmured, her voice sounding very strange. "Could be fatal, Sirius said."

Remus vaguely remembered the conversation he had eavesdropped on between Sirius and Mrs Potter so long ago - how Sirius had defended him and protected his secret. The thought of Sirius forced another whimper-growl from his throat. He wished Moony would back off a bit so he could think straight, but the wolf was in full protective mode. The only reason it wasn't attacking the threat was because one of its pack stood in the way, and Hamish shifted restlessly in his pocket against Remus's side.

"Moony?" Suddenly James was crouched in front of him, trying to meet his eyes. "Remus, it's okay. He's not going to hurt you."

"Look what you've done!" Angela's voice said furiously.

"What's wrong with him?" Mr Potter asked.

"For Merlin's sake, Harold! Put your wand away!" Some small part of Remus's mind that was not engaged with fighting back the wolf and trying to keep his bladder in check was amazed to recognise Mrs Potter's voice. "Can't you see you're frightening the poor boy?"

"He's a werewolf," Mr Potter said, still sounding shell-shocked.

"And you're a damn awful Auror if you let a society's stupid prejudices stand in the way of your common sense!"

"Mum!" James's voice sounded awed.

"I wasn't…" Mr Potter trailed off. "It was just a shock."

"You hear that, Remus?" Angela's face appeared beside James's quickly followed by Neil's. "He's not going to turn you in. He was just surprised. Like Neil was earlier when you burst into our room."

Remus stared at her, then his eyes moved to James's face.  _Pack,_ Moony whispered in his mind.  _Pack._

"Prongs," he whispered. "Padfoot?"

James flinched. "We're going to get him now, Moony. Remember?"

Remus struggled with himself, forcefully pushing Moony away from the forefront of his mind. The wolf backed away, calmer now that the danger was past.

"Remember, Moony?" James repeated patiently.

As Moony retreated, the full situation washed back into Remus's head again. Sirius, Regulus's letter. Going to the Black house to rescue him. "Yes," he said, and saw James's face relax. "Yes, of c-c-course. I r-remember."

"Remus, James," Neil looked at them gently. "You know you can't come. The house of Black is dangerous. We don't want you hurt."

James put a calming hand on Remus's arm as Moony growled again.

"Do you really think you can stop us?" he asked. "Maybe you could stop me, but you couldn't stop Moony. Not now with the wolf so close to the surface. I've never seen him this bad before."

"Of course we can stop you," Mrs Potter said irritably. "You're both only fifteen and there are four of us; two of us are Aurors. We're not going to let you wander into danger."

James glanced back at Remus, a question in his eyes. Remus shrank back, horrified by what he was asking. Then James's eyes flicked to the letter now scrunched in his father's hand and Remus remembered he was doing this for Sirius. He closed his eyes in resigned agreement.

"Show 'em then, Moony."

Remus took a deep breath, drew on Moony's strength and leapt. The adults weren't prepared for it and had no time to react. There was a blur of activity, punctuated by shocked shrieks and grunts of surprise. He was careful not to hurt them, but it was only a few short moments before he stood, panting, beside the antique sofa again. He had all four of the adult's wands in his hand and both he and James had their own wands aimed at them. Neil and Mr Potter were lying winded on the floor.

"And that was without even using any magic," James commented. "We can protect ourselves."

"How did you…?" Mr Potter was staring at Remus in amazement. Remus met his eyes, then slowly reached out his hand to grip the wooden arm of the sofa. He squeezed with all his strength and there was a short resistance before it cracked and splintered.

"Werewolf," he reminded the man, shame and self-loathing colouring both his cheeks and his voice.

"And we're coming with you to get Sirius," James added, moving closer to Remus so their shoulders pressed together. "He's one of our pack. We never leave anyone behind."

"This isn't a game, boys," Mr Potter said, his face serious.

"No, it isn't," Remus agreed softly, shoving Moony back roughly and struggling to keep his voice steady. "It's not a g-game at all. They really are my pack, and Moony won't rest until we have Sirius safely away from that house."

"We don't know what we might find," Neil said. "Lads your age shouldn't be subjected to that."

Remus gave a short, bitter laugh. "Too late for that, Neil. Believe me. Both James and I know what to expect. We know this isn't a stupid game or adventure. We, of all people, know how serious this might be."

There was a long silence as Remus and James stood tensely, waiting for the decision. Eventually Neil sighed. "They're not going to give up. I should know that by now."

"Neil – you're just going let –? " Angela began.

"It's better they come with Harold and me, than sneaking in afterwards. You know perfectly well they're capable of that."

Angela's posture sagged and she nodded. Mr. Potter looked sternly at the boys. "Very well. Keep close. If either of you wonder off, you will be so severely punished, you'll be scrubbing cauldrons in your old age home by the time you've worked it off."

Remus felt relief fill him and held out the adults' wands for them to take.

"I'll stay here," Mrs Potter said. "Just in case it all goes wrong and I need to contact Albus."

"I'm coming," Angela said stubbornly. "He came for Remus. It's the least I can do for the poor boy. Plus, I can help keep an eye on these two."

"House elves," Neil said suddenly. "The house will be free of people today, but what about the house elves?"

"Obliviate works on them," Mr Potter told him. We'll just have to make sure we do them all before we leave. We may need them to find Sirius and retrieve all his things."

"They won't tell us anything," James said. "You know what house elves are like about their masters."

His father gave a grim smile and muttered under his breath as he waved his wand. A few moments later, there was a clutter from his study and a vial of clear liquid flew through the door and into his hand. "Verituserum. Also works on house elves, though you need a much smaller dosage."

"Isn't that illegal?" Angela asked with trepidation. She worked in the Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry, and Remus knew she was uncomfortable with any hint of mistreatment towards non-human beings.

"Of course not, my love," Neil said cheerfully. "Nor is breaking into the manor house of one of the darkest pure-blood families in Europe, obliviating their house elves and kidnapping their son. You have nothing to worry about."

"I feel a bit sick," Mrs Potter murmured.

"Too late to back out now, Mum," James said. "And this is all taking too long." Before anyone had time to react, he grabbed a handful of floo powder off the mantelpiece, flung it into the flames and thrust his head into them. Remus assumed he was allowed to mouth the address as the swirling stopped and James tensed in surprise.

Remus reached out and gripped James around the waist, knowing his friend had a habit of rushing head first into situations without analysing the dangers first.

"What do you see?" he asked. Both of them ignored the various cries of "James, get out the fire!" and " _This_ is why I didn't want them to come!"

"It's empty," James's voice echoed back, sounding distant. "Bloody hell! And I thought  _our_ house was bad with the antiques and pureblood memorabilia.

"Remus, lad, pull him back through," Neil instructed him. "There's no way I'm letting two fifteen-year-old Gryffindor boys go through first."

Remus reluctantly tugged his resisting friend back into the Potter's lounge, allowing Neil and Mr Potter to approach the fire. Mr Potter briefly thrust his head into the flames to check that the coast was clear before stepping all the way through. He was followed quickly by Neil, Angela, James, and Remus.

As soon as Remus looked up and round the Blacks' formal lounge, he knew what James meant by his earlier exclamation. While Potter Manor was decorated in ancient pureblood antiques, it always gave the air of old-world elegance. The walls were painted in pale colours, and the ceilings arched smoothly, high above the rooms. The furniture was polished and intricate, and emanated peace and plenty of loving history. The hum of old, gentle magic seemed to permeate every room.

In contrast, the Blacks' lounge in which they now stood was panelled from floor to high, shadowy ceiling in dark wood. The furniture was heavy and gothic and Remus's sensitive senses were buzzing with the heavy, malicious weight of dark magic that hung in the air. As he stepped out of the fireplace, he was confronted with a massive family tree tapestry that took up nearly the whole of one wall. It was a dark forest green and curling black stitching formed the names of the Black family going back generations.

"The air tastes old and wicked," he murmured. "I can feel it tugging at the wolf…no, more at the dark magic that ties the wolf to me."

James shot a worried glance at him. "You gonna be all right?"

Remus's mouth twisted into a grim smile. "Sirius grew up here. How did this place not poison him completely?"

"Come on, lads," Neil said, motioning them towards the door through which Mr Potter and Angela had already gone.

Remus and James followed him into the dark hall.

"You said they lock him in the cellar?" Mr Potter questioned, looking towards the stairs, and then the door that led down a short passage to the kitchen.

"Yes," James began. "When he –"

"Shh!" Remus interrupted him suddenly. He pointed to the massive portrait that hung just behind James in the hall. He could just make out Walburga Black's figure snoozing in the frame.

"Good God!" Angela exclaimed in a whisper. "What a disturbing thing to come face-to-face with every time you come down the stairs."

Remus couldn't help sniggering at her expression. "Sirius was going to get his own back by using permanent sticking charms to attach pictures of motorbikes and naked Muggle girls to his wall."

"He  _didn't_." Angela looked shocked and Remus felt the humour leave him at the thought of the repercussions.

"Knowing Padfoot, he did," James said.

"Come on then." Mr Potter lead the way to the kitchen, followed closely by Neil. Before Remus had even entered the room, there were two joint shouts if " _Incarcerous!_ " and when he peered around the door, four house elves lay on the floor dressed in ragged scraps of black cloth that served as loin cloths, and glowering at the intruders as they struggled against the magical ropes that held them.

Mr. Potter grabbed one of the little creatures and placed it on a kitchen chair. He waved his wand to remove the rope that gagged the mouth, then, ignoring the shill protests, he tipped the house elf's head back and placed a single drop of veritaserum onto its tongue. The house elf immediately calmed, its eyes growing glassy.

"What's your name?" Mr. Potter asked calmly.

"Kreacher." Its voice was dull and monotone.

"Who do you serve?"

"I serve the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black and its masters."

"And where is your master, Sirius?"

Kreacher twitched as he struggled to fight against the pull of the potion, but his voice remained impassive as he said, "The blood traitor is locked and warded in the cellar for besmirching and dishonouring the Noble house of Black with his disgraceful Gryffindor tendencies."

Remus felt a low growl escape from his throat as he realised who had put those thoughts into the house elf's head. James put a calming hand on his arm as Angela approached the door that led down to the cellars and opened it.

"There's a passage at the bottom of the stairs," she said. "It looks like there are a couple of cellars that lead off."

The other four followed her into the dim passage, Kreacher still bound and floating along behind Mr. Potter like a balloon from hell's funfair.

"Lumos," Neil muttered and held his lit wand above his head. It revealed a short passage with two doors set in the wall along one side. The walls were made of damp stone and the air was cold and seemed to cling to the skin like oil.

"Which one is Sirius in?" Mr. Potter addressed the question to Kreacher who was still under the effects of veritaserum, but it was Remus who answered. He had stiffened as soon as he entered the passage, his nostrils flaring as he was bombarded with the scent of hunger, misery, wine, and Sirius.

Now he bolted towards the door in the right and hammered in it. " _Sirius! Sirius!_ " a tiny part of him flinched at how raw and desperate his voice sounded, but most of him was concentrating on finding some way to reach the boy on the other side of the door. For once, both Remus and Moony were united in the same goal.

There was no answer from beyond the door, though Remus's sensitive ears picked up the sound of something shifting just beyond the door. " _Padfoot!_ "

"Stand aside, lad," Neil said, putting a hand on Remus's shoulder, then withdrawing it quickly when Moony took a snap at it. The man sighed and pointed his wand over Remus's shoulder instead and clearly said, "Alohamora!"

Remus wasn't entirely sure what happened next. One minute he was sitting pressed and scrabbling against the door, and the next he was flung back through the air, his back making hard contact with the opposite wall and completely knocking the wind out of him.

"Moony!" His head spun as he stared blearily up at James who was leaning over him with a look of fright on his face.

"Ow," he murmured. He glanced to the side and saw Angela hovering over Neil who also looked pained and winded, and Mr. Potter stared with a darkened expression at the door.

Kreacher was cackling with glee. "It's a spell!" he informed them, as he bobbed maliciously above their heads. The numbing effects of the veritaserum were clearly beginning to wear off. "Only the caster can break it. You'll never get the nasty blood-traitor out. Despicable mudbloods and traitors that you are." He cackled again, sounding more than a little demented. "The mistress cast it to keep Master Reggie out, but instead it's you who get the bump!" He broke down giggling again.

"Moony?" The quiet plea was so unexpected that even Kreacher was surprised into silence. It came from the other side of the door sounding slightly muffled and close to the ground.

Remus immediately levered himself to his feet and hurried to the door closely followed by James. Careful not to touch the spelled wood, he crouched down and tried to peer through the thin crack beneath. "Padfoot?"

There was a rather hysterical laugh from the other side. "MoonyMoony! C'me to rescue meee!" Sirius sang, and Remus felt his heart clench in worry at the lack of sanity in his voice.

"Sirius, do you know what spell is on the door, mate?" James asked, kneeling beside Remus. Remus glanced at him and saw his friend also looked a little sick.

Sirius giggled again and they heard snuffling at the crack beneath the door. "I c'n almos' smell you, Moony, Prongsie," he sang again. "Sush pretty dreams 'n luci…luci…nations…"

Remus, who had his face near the ground, didn't miss the strong whiff of wine that came under the door on Sirius's breath. "He's drunk," he told the others. "On wine."

At the sound of his voice Sirius gave a delighted shriek of laughter that sounded about as sane as Kreacher's had. " _Moony_ _!_  Wunnerful, marv'lis Moony! I dream…I dream you…you come and the pack…"

"Wine?" Angela questioned in disbelief. "How?"

"It is a wine cellar," Neil pointed out. He glared at Kreacher. "Have you been feeding him? Giving him water?"

Kreacher grinned madly at him. "Only when mistress says. Good mistress…she hurts mudbloods and Muggle-lovers like you."

"Have you found what spell is on the door yet?" Neil asked Mr. Potter, who had been gingerly running wand-scans up and down the wood.

"It's a dark spell," Mr. Potter said. "I fear the elf might be correct. It can only be broken by the caster."

"But what does it  _do_?" James said, obviously trying not to wince in pity as Sirius started singing his 'Moony will rescue me' song again.

Kreacher nodded. "No people can get in!" he cackled. "Only house elves and little scuttling mousies!"

"Oh, shut up!" Angela scowled and cast a silencing spell on the house elf.

At the word 'scuttling', Sirius's song broke off and he began to whimper. "They ge' me Moony!" There was shuffling against the door. "Shadows and dark-things. Creeping 'n scuttling 'n pouncing. I watch 'n watch… They're here, Moony, they're here!"

Remus felt his heart scrunch up in his chest. "We'll get you out, Padfoot. Just hang in there."

"Damn!" Mr. Potter lifted his want away from the door again and swept a hand through his scruffy locks in a distinctly James-like gesture. "There's nothing I can think of to break the bloody thing. Maybe we can force one of the elves to go in and get him if it only applies to people."

"No such luck," Angela said. "Imperious doesn't work on house elves – even if we were desperate enough to cast an Unforgivable. Their innate desire to serve their masters overpowers it."

" _Don't_ touch the door, James!" Mr. Potter snapped at his son, and Remus glanced round in time to see James jerking his hand away from the wood. "It's part of the curse," Mr. Potter continued, his eyes narrowed at the door. "You can't touch the wood. I doubt they even put a proper locking spell on it from the outside. No one can touch it as it is. You'll suffer serious burns that spread like a rash if you do."

"Well, why don't we break down the door without touching it?" Angela suggested. "If the spell was only put up to deter Sirius's brother, they wouldn't expect him to go to such serious measures."

Mr Potter grinned. "You know, that might just work! Sirius, we'll need you to stand away from the door."

The pitiful muttering from the other side of the door paused for a moment. "Moony?"

"Sirius, we need you to move away from the door," Remus told him gently. "We're going to blast it away."

"No," Sirius moaned. "Nononono! Shadows there. Dark things."

"It'll only be for a few second, Padfoot. I swear."

"Swear, Moony, Swear?"

"I swear. When I say go, run away from the door, okay?"

There was a small sound of assent from the other side of the door and Remus looked up at Mr Potter. "Ready?"

The man raised his wand and nodded. "Go Sirius!"

There was a shuffling on the other side of the door as Sirius moved away and Mr. Potter closed his eyes and muttered the blasting curse. For the second time in the last ten minutes, Remus was blasted off his feet and ducked his head as splintering wood rained down. James landed heavily next to him.

"What the  _hell_?" Neil exclaimed. "It should have blasted  _in_. Not out."

"Damn!" Mr. Potter said again, squinting through the settling dust. "They put the spell on the doorframe as well." Remus peered towards the door and saw that – while the door had indeed been blasted away, none of the wreckage had landed inside the cellar. It was as if someone had cast a protego shield on the door frame.

"Sirius, mate – you there?" James, staggered to the doorway.

" _Don't_ go in!" Mr. Potter said quickly.

"I wasn't going to. I'm not as thick as I look."

"James?" A bedraggled looking figure crawled out from behind a barrel.

"Sirius!" Remus was shocked when he saw his friend. Sirius was a mess. He was rumpled and dusty, and so thin that there were deep shadows beneath his cheekbones. His hair hung limply around his face. When he saw Remus and James, though, his face lit up and he flung himself at the doorway.

"Sirius –  _don't!_ " The words were only just our of Remus's mouth when Sirius seemed to bounce off the invisible shield and sprawled back on the floor.

"Are you hurt?" Remus asked anxiously. "Are you burnt?"

Sirius stared at him. "No. Wh'can't I get out, Moony?" he reached out and banged a thin hand against the shield from his side.

"Obviously the burning curse only works from the outside," Mr. Potter said musingly. "Don't worry, Sirius. We'll think of something to get you out."

Sirius's eyes moved to Mr Potter's face. "Misser Potter?" His eyes trailed over the rest of them. "Pr'fessor Anders?"

"We came to rescue you, Padfoot," Remus told him.

Sirius blinked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "Stom'ch hurts," he told them. "'N I feel sick."

"We'll get you out as soon as we can, love," Angela told him, crouching down beside Remus and James. "We just have to work out a way to get past the doorway. It's spelled to curse people who try to get in."

Remus stilled suddenly at the words.  _Spelled to curse people… Human people?_ He thought. He glanced at Sirius who was curled up on the floor facing them.  _House elves can get in. Mice can get in according to Kreacher. Non-human things. Like me._ Then he almost slapped himself as he remembered.  _I ran down the steps and hammered on the door earlier. I was fine. How could we have forgotten that? People do get stupid in tense situations._

He knew the adults would never agree to test his theory – no matter what evidence he presented them with, so without warning them, he took a breath and plunged forward into the doorway in front of him.

" _REMUS!_ " Four voices yelled, and Angela made a grab for him, but missed, because Remus passed through as easily as though there was nothing there.

"What?" James reached for the doorway. "How – "

"Don't touch it, Prongs!" Remus told him sharply.

"Y _ou_  did."

"It only works on people. Not on creatures – house elves, mice, werewolves."

"Moony!" Before James could answer, Remus found himself being embraced from behind by what felt like a giant, walking toast rack. He turned and put his arms around Sirius as well. "Though' y'were a dream," the boy was whispering in his ear. "Though' y'were a dream."

Remus laughed shakily. "I remember having this conversation before. And I quote your answer – 'No one could dream something as amazing as me'."

Sirius huffed a short laugh into Remus's hair, then fell silent. "Sirius?" Remus drew away a little and Sirius's head flopped back bonelessly, his eyes closed. "Oh God! What's wrong with him?" Remus stared urgently through the door to the adults.

"He's drunk as a skunk," James reminded him, but his hazel eyes were worried as he regarded their unconscious friend.

"Remus, can you manage to drag him back through?" Mr Potter questioned. "If you're holding onto him, you'll be able to pass through the barrier, I think."

"You  _think_?" Remus said, gripping Sirius to his chest tightly. "What if you're wrong and he gets all burned up?"

Mr Potter grimaced. "I  _know_  he'll be fine if you're holding onto him."

Remus eyes the door suspiciously. "You sure?"

"You can trust my Dad, Moony," James assured him. "He knows what he's talking about. He specialises in spells like this as an Auror."

"Besides," Mr Potter added. "He wouldn't get burned up if I was wrong, he would just not be able to go through like before. Try and drag him through here."

Remus lessened his hold on Sirius slightly when he realised the boy's breathing was becoming laboured, then shifted his grip and stood up easily with Sirius in his arms. He didn't miss James's knowing smirk and scowled at him before noticing Mr Potter's gaping expression.

"Werewolf," he reminded the man.

"Right…" Mr Potter replied faintly.

Remus approached the door and took a deep breath. Then he took a deliberate step through it. With Sirius in his arms, the spell tried to fight back and it felt a bit like walking through warm jelly laced with the dirty tang of dark magic.

"Gross," he muttered, shuddering as he popped through the other side. "I feel like I need a shower."

"Is he still breathing?" Neil asked.

Remus glanced down at Sirius's rising and falling chest. "Yeah."

"Then let's get going. The sooner we get out of this hell hole the better. And we still need to obliviate the house elves and get Sirius's stuff from his room. You want me to carry him, Remus?"

Remus tightened his grip on Sirius, determined not to let the boy go until he was sure he was safe. "No."

"All right," Neil said. "You boys follow on after us."

Neil, Mr. Potter and Angela led the way back into the kitchen with James and Remus following.

"And be careful not to wake up the old bat in the hall," Angela said over her shoulder. "Obliviate doesn't work on portraits."

Remus thought back to Sirius's letter describing his portrait-mother's constant stream of verbal abuse. "I wonder if Avada Kedavra does?" he muttered to James.

"I'm game to try if you are," James said grimly, casting a glance at Sirius's wasted form.


	51. A Noble Steed Called Hamish

_We're our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves._   
_(Tom Robbins) **  
**_

**SIRIUS:**

When Sirius woke he couldn't decide if he was the most comfortable, or the most uncomfortable he had been for a very long time. For one thing, he was lying on something soft – not the stone floor he had been on for what seemed like forever. He was warm, and his stomach was not knotted up and aching with hunger. The fact that he was clear-headed enough to be aware of these changes was a pleasant surprise as well.

However, although the deep-bone cold and gnawing hunger were now gone, his whole lower abdomen burned with an insistent, throbbing pain and his head ached so much, he didn't dare move at all for fear it would crack open and spill its contents onto the softness beneath him.

Sirius struggled to drag his mind away from the depths of his half-sleep and towards the painful state of wakefulness. As he became more aware, he could make out voices speaking quietly somewhere above him.

"… severe alcohol poisoning, serious damage to the liver and kidneys, dehydration, stomach ulcers from a mixture of stress and starvation, mild hypothermia – honestly Albus the list goes on and on. You cannot let this boy return to those people. They're not fit to be guardians."

"I know, Poppy." Sirius vaguely recognised the voice as Professor Dumbledore's. "But the Blacks are a powerful family and have links in all areas of the Ministry. This isn't a case like Mr. Lupin's. If we file a child-abuse case against them, there could be some serious repercussions and there is no guarantee we would win. Can you not imagine how bad it could become for him if we fail and he has to go back to them after they have been subjected to such public scrutiny? The best we can do is try to find a way for them to allow Sirius to stay at Hogwarts or at the Potters' over the holidays without making it official."

"And how would we manage that?" Professor McGonagall's voice cut in. "Do you plan on trying to outwit a family as Slytherin as the Blacks?"

"Perhaps," Professor Dumbledore said, "they will disown him on their own. Perhaps what he did to earn himself the punishment he suffered was enough for them to willingly wash their hands of him."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," McGonagall said darkly. "The Blacks hold onto their own – if only to make them suffer for their betrayals."

"Well, they certainly…"

Sirius gave up the fight against sleep and felt his mind swimming as the rest of Madame Pomfrey's words slurred out of his understanding.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The second time Sirius woke, it was to the unmistakable good-natured bickering of his fellow Marauders. His head was still pounding, and the ache in his stomach gnawed persistently at his backbone, but the journey from sleep to wakefulness seemed a lot easier this time. He lay with his eyes closed, still on the verge of sleep as he listened to his friends.

"… Seriously, Wormtail, mate. You know he can't eat all that anytime soon. Madame Pomfrey says he'll have a weak stomach for a while. Where did you get it all anyway?"

"Kicheds," Peter answered. His voice was muffled and it sounded as though he had a blocked nose. "Ad Hodeydukes."

"You sneaked into Hogsmeade alone?" Remus said, sounding stern.

"Doh!" Peter defended himself quickly. "I bought it whed by pare'ts drobbed be off at the school. He cad save it for whed he's feeli'g better. Bake sub space for be to put it all dowd."

"There's no space anywhere for all that food," James said with amusement. "And Sirius won't want those liquorice wands, anyway."

"Why?" Peter sounded hurt.

"Well, they're jammed up your nostrils, Pete," Remus pointed out kindly. "It's a bit unhygienic."

There was a clattering from the bedside table as Peter dropped his offerings onto it, then two popping sounds as he removed the liquorice wands from his nose. "My hands were full. I had no other way to carry them. He can wash them off."

"He'd probably prefer it if you just ate them," Remus said. "You know - because of his weak stomach and all."

"Oh, all right," Peter said, slightly mollified.

Sirius felt his heart warming as he listened to his friends. He had utterly convinced himself that they had all been a dream and to hear them here sounding solid and real was so wonderful, he thought he might actually pop with joy. With an effort, he forced his eyelids open and blinked fuzzily at the dark blurs above him, which gradually resolved themselves into the three Marauders. Remus and James were sitting in chairs beside his bed, looking at Peter who was standing by the bedside table with two liquorice wands in his hands. It was Peter who glanced up and noticed Sirius's open eyes.

"Padfoot!" His face broke into a delighted grin.

Remus and James swung around and yelled in delight when they saw he was awake. Remus moved to sit on the edge of the bed and slid his arms under Sirius's shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. Sirius sagged gratefully against him, his head dropping to nuzzle against the werewolf's pale neck. He took a deep breath, taking in that wonderful, familiar autumn scent, and comforting warmth. Remus squirmed a little and chuckled. "You're huffing down my neck, Padfoot."

"Mmm," Sirius answered, deliberately huffing harder and enjoying the way Remus's body shuddered in response.

"How're you feeling, mate?" James asked.

Sirius lifted his face and grimaced at him. "I think my brain has melted and trickled out my ears. And my stomach is trying to gnaw through my spinal chord."

"Alcohol poisoning," Remus said matter-of-factly. "Malnutrition, dehydration, hypothermia – "

"Ergh! Stop," Sirius begged. "You're making me nauseous with all those long words."

Remus pulled back a little and smiled at him. "Sorry, Padfoot."

"What happened?" Sirius asked. "In small words please. None over two syllables. Pete, why don't you tell me?"

"Hey!" Peter looked insulted. "I know big words. Besides – I wasn't there. These two gits didn't bother to fetch me when Remus got the letter."

"What letter?"

"From Regulus," Remus told him.

"Reg?" Sirius felt his stomach give an even more painful lurch. He had a vague memory of a conversation that ended in him screaming 'I hate you, I hate you!' to his little brother through the crack in the cellar door.

"Yeah," Remus said, lifting his hand to the back of Sirius's head and guiding it back to rest on his shoulder. "I've got it here, somewhere. I saved it for you to look at before I destroyed it."

He shifted and pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his back pocket. Sirius turned his head without lifting it and scanned the short note. Guilt surged its way up his gullet and he thought he might vomit. "'That day in the dungeons?'"

Remus was still for a long time, and it didn't escape Sirius's notice that James and Peter were looking curiously at him as well, waiting for his answer. Eventually, Remus sighed and pressed his cheek to the side of Sirius's head. "He was there that day I got beat up," he said. Sirius stiffened and Remus's arms tightened round him. "He didn't want to hurt me. They made him do it."

" _Made_ him?" Sirius was furious. If his head wasn't so sore he would have leapt from the bed.

"Sirius, you of all people know he's a bit of a follower," Remus said, his voice urgent. "It wasn't his fault. They bullied him into it. They threatened to treat him the same as me if he didn't help."

"Then he should have  _suffered_  rather than hurt you!" Sirius spat. In his mind, loyalty was the most important thing a person could have. He couldn't conceive how someone could betray another in that way.

"Why should he?" Remus questioned gently. "He wasn't my friend. You think it would have been better for him to have been frozen and beaten and stuffed into that alcove with me?"

Sirius was silent, fuming at the thought of his brother's actions.

"Oh, Sirius," Remus whispered. "The whole time I was there, the thing that kept me going was the knowledge that you three would notice I was missing and wouldn't rest until you found me. And you did. You came and you carried me back to our dorm, and you patched me up and made it all okay. Regulus doesn't have friends like that. The only people he has are the other Slytherins. If he had turned on them, can you imagine how things would have been for him? Can't you see where his loyalties have to lie?"

Sirius turned his head and pressed his face into Remus's shoulder. Tears were trying to work their way out of his eyes and he didn't want his friends to see. Remus's hand moved gently up and down his back in a gesture that was familiar from full-moon days, although Sirius was not usually on the receiving end.

"He came to check on me," Remus continued. "He didn't know how to break the spell, but he kept coming to check on me. If you hadn't found me, he would have gone to get you, you know. And you saw the letter. He's trying to make amends."

"I told him I hated him," Sirius mumbled into the thin fabric of Remus's worn shirt. "I was drunk and… and scared and I was begging him to let me out and he just kept saying he couldn't and I screamed and screamed that I hated him, and he screamed it back."

Apparently, the others couldn't really think of a reply to that. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, Remus's hand continuing its gentle journey up and down his spine. Eventually James cleared his throat.

"He was right. He couldn't have let you out. There was a curse on the door."

"A curse?" Sirius wanted to lift his head, but he was sure his eyes would be red and teary so he kept it pressed against Remus's shoulder.

"Yeah." Remus gave an odd-sounding laugh. "A curse on the door designed to keep people out. They must have put it on to stop Regulus unlocking the door for you. They hadn't reckoned on a dark creature coming to rescue you. It was only designed to work on people."

"You're people, Moony," James said. The frustrated tone of his voice indicated that they had had this argument before. "You aren't entirely human, but you're still a person."

Remus didn't answer, although Sirius could feel his muscles tensing.

"I, for one, am glad you could get me out," Sirius said, making his voice teasing and finally lifting his head. "I can just imagine you storming in there with your armour clanking and your sword waving to rescue your handsome prince on your noble steed…"

He silently cheered as he saw Remus's expressive mouth quirk up into grin.

"Oh, he did," James put in. "Though his noble steed was riding in his pocket, and was asleep for most of the operation, actually."

Remus laughed then, and reached down to pull a sleepy Hamish from his pocket and deposit him in Sirius's lap. "I think he did a marvellous job," Remus said. "He was keeping Moony at bay."

"Yeah," Peter put in. "He was standing there in front of the wolf with all his little spines bared and Moony just backed right off."

Sirius smiled and lifted the hedgehog up to his face. "Well, thank you very much, then, noble steed." Hamish looked at him contemplatively, then licked his nose with a tiny pink tongue.

"We saw what you did to your room," James added. I can't believe you did that, mate - stuck all that stuff on the wall."

"I was drunk on fire whiskey," Sirius told him. "I wouldn't have done it if I was sober. And when I woke there was nothing I could do. Permanent sticking charms, you know."

"Is that why they locked you down there?" Remus asked. Sirius didn't miss the way he and James had exchanged an expressive glance at the mention of the firewhiskey.

"Yeah." Sirius scowled. "But they would have anyway. My mother was on the warpath all summer. My father was home, and he doesn't think she's been disciplining me properly, so she was trying to prove how tough she is on me."

"I'm sorry, mate," James said. "We should have made you come to my house earlier."

"You couldn't," Sirius pointed out. "Do you think I wouldn't spend all summer at your house if I could? My mother insists on me being home." His head throbbed with pain and he pressed a fist to his forehead in an effort to dull it.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Remus touched his cheek and peered at his face.

"My head hurts," Sirius said. "And my stomach."

"Madame Pomfrey left a painkilling potion for you," Peter said, picking it up from a nearby table and handing it over. "You're not allowed to take too many though because of your stomach."

"Do I look as rough as I feel?" Sirius asked mournfully, after swigging down the potion and making a face.

"You're as gorgeous as ever," Remus assured him, running his hand through Sirius's hair, then gently pressing him back to lie against his pillows again.

"James?" Sirius whined.

James shrugged. "You do look a bit rough, mate. But not nearly as bad as when we got you out. You'll be fine once school starts."

"I don't want to be  _fine_ ," Sirius insisted. "I want to be my usual gorgeous self!"

"Why?" Peter asked. "You've got Moony, and he doesn't care what you look like."

"But I want him to have someone everyone can be jealous of - who he can be proud of."

"I  _am_ proud of you," Remus said stubbornly. "And since we're not telling anyone about us, they wouldn't be jealous anyway."

Sirius sulked, and Remus smiled and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. "When you sulk like that you make creases in your lovely smooth skin," he told Sirius. Sirius immediately smoothed out his expression and James and Peter snickered.

Remus gave him a fond look. "Vain git. Get some more beauty sleep, why don't you?"

Sirius smiled at him, then closed his eyes obediently.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_He was alone and naked, crouched in the smallest pool of light and surrounded on all sides by pulsing, living shadows that encroached - tendril by skulking tendril – closer and closer, eating up the quivering brightness of the light pool in an effort to reach the trembling figure within._

_Sirius could do nothing, only curl into a smaller and smaller ball as the protective lightness disappeared. It seemed to take his warmth and oxygen with it, until he was huddled, freezing and gasping for breath in the microscopic patch of light, watching helplessly as wicked chuckles filled the air and an inky tentacle of darkness reached forward to curl around his ankle._

_Sirius screamed and screamed as the icy liquid tentacles slid over him, stealing his heat, his breath, his mind. He couldn't fight. He was frozen; could only lie there and cry out as the chuckling shadows slowly took over his body, inch by blackened inch._

_Siriussss… they whispered his name through their demented giggles. Siriussss… BLACK. Siriussss Blaaack… Jussst like usss… Black to the core… you belong with us…Siriussss…_

"Sirius!"

Sirius's whole body jerked awake in one movement and his eyes snapped open to a dark, shadow-filled room. A black, silhouetted figure crouched over him and he scrambled away from it, trying to force his jellied muscles to work.

"Sirius, it's just me, love.  _Lumos_!"

And suddenly there was light. It made him blink and shut his eyes, but he could still see it glimmering rosily through his eyelids.

"It's just me, Sirius. Adelaide Potter. James's Mum. You know me."

Slowly, Sirius opened his eyes and stared up blearily into the face of the woman standing over him. He felt his heartbeat calm as he looked at her, felt her close a warm hand over his shoulder. Mrs. Potter looked worried and tired, but the hand that touched him was motherly and soothing. Sirius didn't know how long she had been sitting with him, but her dark auburn hair that was shot through with grey was beginning to escape from the elegant French knot at the back of her head, and the lines that creased her face around her eyes and mouth revealed to Sirius for the first time that James's mum was probably a lot older than he had always assumed.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, her hand moving to run through his sweat-dampened hair.

"Mm," he mumbled. "Jus' a dream."

"A nightmare, by the sound of it. I wish I could get you some Dreamless Sleep potion, but it's hard on the stomach, and we don't want you to become dependent on it. Would you like some water?" She poured him a glass from the jug beside his bed and helped him to sit up and drink it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Sirius shook his head, his eyes skittering away to the shadowy hospital wing beyond the safe light of her wand.

"Why don't you lie down and go to sleep?" she said, pushing him gently back against his pillows the same way Remus had earlier that day. "I'll be here to watch over you.  _Nox_."

The light of her wand flicked out and Sirius felt his breath hitch in his throat. "Turn it back on!  _Please_! Turn it back on!"

" _Lumos_." Her face appeared again, staring at his in worry. "It's okay. I'll leave it on, I promise. Go on. Close your eyes. I'll make sure the light doesn't go out while you sleep."

Sirius sank back against his pillow, closing his eyes again. He wished he could sleep, but the shadows skittered malevolently along the edges of his consciousness. His mind whirled with the knowledge of them and refused to settle. He had a sudden craving for the obliviousness of alcohol. He longed for the calm simplicity of the drunken state where he didn't have to think and imagine and remember.

He wondered if he could persuade the Marauders to steal him some and bring it tomorrow. Then he remembered the meaningful look that James and Remus had exchanged when he mentioned his drunkenness when he hung the posters in his room, and knew it would be useless. They probably thought he was a closet alcoholic, which was so far from the truth it was laughable.

He wasn't an alcoholic. He just needed the effects of it to simplify his thoughts and keep the shadows and memories at bay. It was practically medicinal. He would have to think of a way to get some soon, before the shadows invaded his mind again and probed through his brain and slowly tore apart his sanity.


	52. The Bronze Smell of Fear

_I can choose to accelerate my disease to an alcoholic death or incurable insanity,_

_or I can choose to live within my thoroughly human condition._

_(Mercedes McCambridge)_ **  
**

**REMUS:**

"Moony?"

Remus turned from where he was curled up on the wide common room windowsill staring up at the three-quarters-full moon and gave James a strained smile.

"You alright, mate?" his friend asked, eyeing Remus with concern.

Remus pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them to give James room to sit beside him. "Yes, I suppose so."

"No you're not. 'Course you're not." James pulled himself up onto the windowsill, legs dangled over the edge and his back to the glass. The common room was deathly quiet without the usual rowdy hoard of Gryffindors. Remus, Peter and James rattled round in Gryffindor Tower like dried peas in a tin, and Remus couldn't help but wish that the summer holidays would end so that everything could go back to normal.

James was silent for a long moment, then sighed and ran his hands through his messy hair. "It's been a week and a half now. You know, I thought that once we had him rescued and he was in the Hospital Wing everything would be fine. I mean, I knew he would be injured, but I didn't know he would…" James trailed off and gave his hair a frustrated tug. "I mean,  _you_  didn't come back half insane and afraid of the dark in second year."

Remus hated the implication that Sirius was weak - especially that he was weaker than Remus, when Remus knew for a fact it was the other way around. "Yes I did," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hard. "Before that time there was never post-moon Moony. My mind cracked and the wolf slotted himself into the gap so it couldn't heal. Some things leave permanent scars, Prongs – and not just physical ones. And I may not have been afraid of the dark, but I came back utterly terrified of silver, and the Ministry, and of being touched, and of myself."

James reached out and put a tentative hand on Remus's arm, his eyes filled with apology behind his glasses. "You're right. I'm sorry, Moony. I shouldn't have said that."

Remus dropped his chin onto his knees and looked at James. "You mustn't blame Sirius," he told his friend. "He didn't snap from a few weeks locked alone and starving and cold in a pitch black cellar with no hope of escape. He snapped from almost sixteen years of constant hatred and abuse at the hands of the only people in his life who should have loved him unconditionally. I know it's hard to understand because you have wonderful parents who care for you and spoil you, and who have even taken Sirius under their wings, but really it's too little, and too late. The damage was done a long time ago."

James patted Remus's arm, looking awkward. His mouth moved silently for a bit before he cleared his throat and said; "He's lucky to have someone like you. Someone who gets him, I mean. You're good for each other. I'm glad you got together." He coughed and looked embarrassed at the sentiment, glancing away and scratching the new, thin stubble growing on his fifteen-year-old chin, as if to reassure himself of his manliness.

Remus hid a smile and turned his head to look out the window. He knew that only the Marauders ever saw this side of James. To everyone else he seemed only arrogant, popular and a little bit cruel in his teasing. He wondered whether he should mention to James that perhaps he had more chance with Lily if he took down those shields, though he doubted his friend even knew he had them.

"I should tell Neil and Angela about us – Sirius and me, I mean," Remus said instead, taking pity on James who was shifting uncertainly in the emotion-tinged silence. "But I can't bring myself to do it now with all this other stress and my transformation in a week and everything."

"You have plenty of time. Don't worry about it now, mate. You don't have to feel guilty."

Remus gave James an amused sidelong glance. "What do you think of Snape?"

"Snivellus?" James scowled. "What the hell has he got to do with all this?" His eyes widened. "He doesn't fancy you, does he? I'll hex him for you if you like. Can I hex him?"

Remus laughed. "No, Prongs. I just had to check it was you. You were demonstrating alarming amounts of empathy and compassion and I thought you might have been replaced with an impostor. I needed to be reassured of your homicidal tendencies."

"Snivellus-cidal tendencies. I don't want to maim everyone I meet."

"Slytherin-cidal tendencies," Remus suggested and James smiled crookedly. He shoved his glasses up his nose and leaned back against the window, kicking his heels against the wall beneath the sill. "I'm guessing you want to borrow the cloak again tonight?"

"If you don't mind. Your mum has a habit of hanging round the Hospital Wing at night."

"Poor Moony," James smiled. "Have you had a single moment alone with him yet?"

"Only when he's been asleep."

James tilted his head, a wicked look in his eyes. "Ooh, Remus. Does Padfoot know about this kink of yours?"

Remus felt his eyes widen and he cuffed James around the head. "Get your mind out the gutter, Potter. You know perfectly well that's not what I meant."

"Sorry," James said, looking completely unrepentant. "Do you know that you actually  _glow_  when you blush?"

Remus blushed even more. "Shut up."

James grinned for a moment, then sobered. "When're you going?" he asked.

"In half an hour. Madame Pomfrey should be asleep by then."

"I'll get you the cloak." James shoved himself off the windowsill and headed up the stairs to the dorm.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

As he had done every night since Sirius's rescue, Remus silently made his way to the Hospital Wing under the protection of James's invisibility cloak. The Marauder's Map – almost completed now, bar a few kinks that needed to be ironed out - was open in Remus's hand, and he was relieved to note that Mrs. Potter wasn't in the hospital wing this night as she often was. On those nights, Remus was forced to remain under the cloak, keeping silent vigil from a distance as he watched Mrs. Potter stroke Sirius's hair back from his face and sooth him from his nightmares.

He slipped into the Hospital Wing, and his sensitive nose was immediately met with the scent of fear emanating from Sirius's bed – a slightly metallic-bronze smell that prompted Remus to hurry over to the bed where Sirius tossed restlessly, his face twisted as he let out a strangled whine of panic. There was an everlasting candle flickering on the bedside cabinet.

Remus leaned over and gripped his shoulders giving them a small shake. "Sirius! Padfoot! Wake up - it's just a nightmare. Wake up!"

Sirius flinched away from his hands and blank grey eyes snapped open to stare up at Remus's face for a moment. Remus moved one of his hands to brush damp hair away from Sirius's forehead. "It's just me. It's Remus."

"Moony…" Sirius's voice was a tentative croak.

"Yes. It's Moony. Come on Padfoot. Wake up for me, baby. Wake up properly."

Sirius's face twisted again into another strained expression, and it was a moment before Remus realised he was trying to smile. "Y'call…y'call m'baby," he rasped.

Remus coughed out a short laugh. "To be honest with you, I think I was channeling my mum. My real mum. I don't remember loads about her, but I remember she used to wake me up from nightmares saying that."

Sirius's face screwed up as his eyes cleared a little, obviously beginning to shake off the nightmare. "You ruined it now, Moony!"

"What?" Remus smiled. "You like me calling you 'baby'?"

Sirius shrugged a little, eyes skittering away. "You don't usually use a pet name for me." Remus reflected that it was a rare moment when he saw Sirius like this. Half asleep, shy, and with all his determinedly 'manly' shields down. He thought about how much he enjoyed the little shiver Sirius caused to run through him every time he used the word 'babe'.

"Well then by all means, cupcake," he teased, leaning forward to kiss Sirius's sweaty forehead which creased into a scowl under his lips.

"Not that!"

"Honeybun?"

"No!"

"Snookums?"

"Absolutely not."

"Darling little sausage?"

"I am nobody's darling little sausage, and you would do well to remember that, Lupin." Sirius tried to look menacing, but with his hair ruffled, his eyes swollen with sleep and the remnants of his disturbed dreams, he only succeeded in looking mildly constipated.

"You look mildly constipated," Remus told him.

"Did you come here to insult me?"

"Among other things."

Sirius's eyes gleamed in the flickering light of the candle. "What other things?"

"I come bearing gifts of from the far off land of Honeydukes." Remus pulled a small pile of sweets and chocolates out of his robe pocket and put them on the cabinet beside the candle.

"Any of that been up your nostrils?" Sirius asked.

"What? No!"

"Just checking Pete hadn't started a trend." Sirius groaned and curled onto his side, his arm moving to press against his stomach.

"Is it really bad?" Remus asked. "Madame Pomfrey left out a painkilling potion. But only one. You know you can't have too many."

"Just give me the damned thing," Sirius begged.

Remus picked up the vial and handed it to him and Sirius downed the contents.

"Lie on your back," Remus instructed, pressing Sirius's shoulder back against the bed. The other boy reluctantly uncurled.

"What're you doing?" Sirius asked, his voice still strained with pain.

Remus hesitated, suddenly feeling nervous. He wasn't sure what was making him so bold, but he thought it might have been his fuzzy post-moon memories involving a feeling of warm, safe arms around him, and a gentle hand running up and down his back. The rhythmic movement of Sirius's hand always rubbed away the aches that plagued him and soothed the tense muscles of his back.

"Just lie still," he told Sirius. "I'm going to try help with the pain."

"How?"

Remus gathered his Gryffindor courage and reached out to gently pull up Sirius's pajama top, exposing the other boy's still starved-looking stomach.

"Moony!" Sirius looked shocked. "What are you doing? It better not be anything new and sexy. I'm not exactly feeling feisty at the moment."

Remus flushed, but he set his jaw bravely. "It's not sexy. I'm just trying to help you." He sent Sirius a pleading look, and Sirius's expression softened. Since that first impulsive time in the bathroom, Remus had rarely initiated a kiss or any other intimate moment (bar those moments after the full moons where he wasn't in his right mind). He just didn't have the self confidence and dreaded that he might do something Sirius hated. He knew Sirius was aware of this, so he wasn't surprised when the other boy reached out and took his hand, guiding it to his stomach.

"It's okay, Moony. You know I would tell you if you did anything I didn't like. I won't ever be angry at you just for trying something new."

Sirius's stomach was tight and warm under his hand, dipping far below his clearly-defined ribcage. Remus could feel the tense muscles spasming with pain. The potion he had taken was mild and took a while to work – the only kind Sirius's delicate stomach didn't reject. "Tell me if I hurt you," Remus said.

Slowly, he began running his hand over the pain-tensed area, lightly at first, then gradually increasing the pressure when he felt the muscles begin to relax a little with a mixture of the potion and the gentle massage.

"God, Moony," Sirius breathed, his voice betraying his relief. "How did you know how to do that?"

"It's something I do before the full moon sometimes. You know how my muscles begin preparing for the change and start to spasm and tense up. I find it helps. And it's even better if someone else is doing it. You do it sometimes after the full moon – rub your hand up and down my back. I don't remember much, but I remember that. It helps relax me."

"It feels good. That damn potion doesn't really make a lot of difference." Sirius closed his eyes and Remus saw his whole body relax as the pain began to leave him. He massaged both hands up to the base of Sirius's ribcage, then down to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, then moved them across Sirius's belly and along his sides. In spite of his assurances to Sirius, he couldn't help finding the whole situation oddly erotic. Sirius's bellybutton was a neat oval against his pale, pure-blood skin. A line of the soft dark hair trailed down from it and disappeared below the elastic of his pyjamas. The little groans of relief and enjoyment did nothing to lessen Remus's problem.

"I thought you said this wasn't going to be sexy," Sirius's voice teased after a while, sounding rather drowsy.

Remus jerked his hands away guiltily. "It wasn't meant to be."

Sirius opened his eyes and smiled. "I never said I was complaining, babe. Don't stop."

Remus moved his hands away completely and clenched them in his lap. He wondered if Sirius was fighting arousal as much as he was. Judging by the slightly-more-bulging-than-usual bump at the front of the boy's pajama bottoms (that Remus was trying desperately to avoid looking at), he was. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Sirius seemed to wake from his drowsy state and looked at Remus in concern. "What's wrong, Moony?"

"Nothing. I just don't want to take advantage of you while you're not well."

"We're together, Remus. It wouldn't be taking advantage."

Remus shook his head, unable to explain the guilty awkwardness that seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach. "You're not well. You need to sleep, and so do I. Full moon in a few days time. Here – I'll put your sweets in the draw so Madame Pomfrey doesn't spot them and confiscate them. Just don't eat them all at once and make yourself sick."

He reached out and pulled open the drawer.

"Moony, no!"

Sirius wasn't quite quick enough to stop him and the drawer opened. Remus stared into it, wondering why Sirius had tried to stop him. Then his sensitive nose picked up the potent scent of firewhiskey, and he yanked the draw all the way open to reveal half a bottle of Ogden's finest tucked right at the back. He reached out with a shaking hand and picked it up.

"So this is why your stomach hasn't been healing properly," he murmured, knowing his voice was laden with disappointment. He looked up at Sirius who had rolled onto his front and buried his face in his pillow. "Don't you  _care_ about what you're doing to yourself?"

Sirius mumbled something into his pillow that sounded more like an extended whimper than real speech.

Remus turned the bottle around in his hands, staring down at the label. "My father used to drink this stuff," he commented, deliberately keeping his voice level. "He would drink and drink until his mind was completely addled. He was always more irrational and violent at those times. I think that even  _he_  was shocked at how much he hurt me under the influence of alcohol."

Sirius's hands tightened on his pillow and he turned his head a little so Remus could understand him. When he spoke his voice was rough and broken. "I would never hurt you, Remus."

"You  _will_. You  _are._  By hurting yourself like this, you hurt me. You don't understand the effect alcohol has on your health and your judgment. Please, Sirius. I don't want you to do something we'll both regret. Please, please, just promise me you won't drink anymore."

"I need it," Sirius whispered. "It's the only way I can bear to sleep. It's the only way I can bear to spend any time in my own company. It takes away the bad things in my head. I can't cope with  _thinking_ all the time."

"Do you think I don't know what it's like?" Remus demanded. "Stopping yourself from thinking about it won't make it go away. You have to  _face_ your issues, not hide from them. That's why I'm here, and James and Peter. And the Potters. We want to help you work through this, but we can't do it if you insist on destroying yourself."

"For God's sake," Sirius snapped suddenly, his temper flaring. "Stop being so melodramatic! It's just a drink."

"It's  _not_ just a bloody drink! You don't understand what it  _does_ to people. I have the scars to prove it!"

"Stop comparing me to your git of a father!"

"Then stop  _acting_  like him!" Remus sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "Please, love. I beg you – I  _beg_ you not to do this. Please, please, please. For me, if not for yourself. I've never asked you for anything else. Please just do this for me."

"That's low, Remus. Using a pet name to get me to do what you want."

Remus's hands tightened on the bottle and Sirius flopped back against the bed again, all the fight seeming to go out of him. "All right, fine," he said dully. "I won't drink anymore. If it's that important to you, I won't do it."

An odd kind of sobbing laugh bubbled up out of Remus's throat and his whole body sagged in relief. "You promise?"

"Yeah. I promise."

"Where did you get this anyway?" Remus shook the bottle.

"It was in my trunk. I got a house elf to bring it to me."

Remus glared at the bottle, then tucked it into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked.

"Removing temptation."

"Don't you trust me?"

Remus wanted to say ' _alcohol makes liars of us all_ '. Instead he said, "Of course I do. But why leave it here to torture you?"

Sirius settled back, contented with the reassurance. "I really didn't do it to hurt you, Moony."

"I know, Pads."

"I just wanted to clear my mind. Uncomplicate things a bit."

"I know. It's alright." Remus reached out and tugged down Sirius's pajama top, then straightened his covers over his body. He brushed Sirius's dark hair away from his face. "Go to sleep."

"You won't leave, will you?" Sirius asked, trying and failing to sound unconcerned about the answer.

"I'll be right here when you wake," Remus assured him. "But I'm going to put the cloak on, okay? I'm not supposed to be here at night." He slung the cloak over his shoulders so he disappeared from sight.

Sirius's hand snuck out from his covers and under the cloak, pulling Remus's from his lap. Remus decided not to comment on quite how tightly Sirius clung to his hand. The gesture had a lot more to do with desperation than romance. He watched as Sirius's eyes fell closed, and after a long while his breathing slowed in sleep.

"It's okay," he whispered very quietly, looking down at their linked hands. His own looked rather disturbing – being the only part of him not covered by the cloak. "I got you. I won't let go. Not ever."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius was released from the Hospital Wing two weeks later, only a few days before the start of the new term. It had not been an easy time for any of them. Remus's transformation had been particularly violent due to his churning emotions, and as a result, Sirius had not been the only one confined under Madame Pomfrey's care for those few days.

"You can't believe how amazing it feels to be free at last," Sirius said, as Remus and James helped him through the portrait hole. Weeks of no exercise had left Sirius weak and he was out of breath and shaky by the time they finally made their way to Gryffindor tower, in spite of the fact that the other Marauders had supported him most of the way.

"Believe me, I know everything about the sense of relief you get escaping from the Hospital Wing," Remus said wryly. He helped Sirius over to the sofa by the fire and eased him down onto it.

"Remind me never to mock you for your shameless pleading to Pomfrey again."

"I'm  _never_ as shameless as you," Remus said. "Besides – it's your own fault for getting yourself into a life-threatening situation."

"Me?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Like you're one to talk. You're the one who's always knocking on Death's door."

"I never knock on Death's door," Remus told him. "I ring the bell and run. He hates that."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Much as Remus had been looking forward to the arrival of the rest of the school, he had forgotten quite how chaotic it was, and little privacy was available in a tower full of hyperactive, hormonal adolescents. Unfortunately for Sirius, although his appearance had improved drastically over the his time in Madame Pomfrey's care, it was impossible to miss the fact he was weak, sickly and half starved.

Rumours buzzed like mosquitoes in and out of the ears of the Gryffindor students, and from there, spread round the rest of the school. From what Remus had heard, they varied from outrageous (that Sirius had accidentally swallowed the eggs of three Gastrocaline snakes that were currently eating him from the inside out and that he only had two more weeks to live) to disturbingly close to the truth.

The Marauders protected him as best they could, but Remus could see the toll that the situation was taking on him. Sirius slowly began to withdraw from his friends and disappeared on his own for long periods at a time, taking the Marauder's map so they had no way to find him.

Remus felt utterly helpless, and his worry brought Moony back to the surface, and made his own recovery very slow.

One Tuesday night, three weeks into the new school term, Remus was woken to terrified whimpers from Sirius's bed. He was a little surprised that Sirius had forgotten to cast the silencing charm he had been using since his return to the dorm, and he rolled out of bed and padded over. He caught sight of James's ruffled form sitting up sleepily in his own bed.

"It's okay," Remus whispered. "I got it."

James gave a worried nod and lay back again, facing Sirius's closed bed curtains. Remus slipped through the curtains without opening them, and stared down at the other boy. Sirius hadn't returned that night until long after the others had gone to sleep. Remus assumed he had retreated to wherever it was he went when things got too much.

Sirius was still dressed in his school robes, curled up on top of his covers. An odd, low groan was emanating from deep in this throat, and Remus could see from the light of Sirius's wand that was lying on the cabinet beside his bed, that his friend's face was blanched white and twisted with fear.

"Sirius!" Remus shook Sirius's curled form gently. He only succeeded in making Sirius curl up more tightly. Remus shook a bit more roughly, then jumped when Sirius uncurled as suddenly as spring twanging back into place, and flailed blindly at Remus.

"It's just me, Padfoot!"

One of Sirius's hands managed to snag the front of Remus's pajamas and dragged him forward to peer dimly at his face. His breath smelled like stale cooking sherry.

"You promised, Sirius," Remus whispered, feeling his stomach twist with betrayal.

"Wha'?" Sirius was obviously struggling to wake up. His voice was slurred with the remnants of sleep and alcohol.

"You  _promised_  me you wouldn't drink." Remus angrily tried to untangle Sirius's fingers from the front of his pajama top.

"MoonyMoonyMoony," Sirius babbled, clinging on tighter. "Don' go! They're here. I c'n feel 'em, y'know. Crawling shadow beasties. Don' go my Moony. In m'head. Pleasepleaseplease!"

Remus felt sick with a mixture of pity, love and anger. He stopped trying to prize the fingers free and Sirius clutched him closer. "Nonono…Don' go. Don' go, babe."

As usual, that word proved to be his undoing, and he allowed himself to be pulled into the bed beside Sirius who burrowed into his chest in a way that reminded Remus disturbingly of Hamish. Remus curled around his larger form as best he could and Sirius gave a dog-like snuffle and dropped back into sleep.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus knew that insanity ran rampant in the Black family. He wondered if split personalities were part of the genetic code, or if this brand of mental distortion was individual to Sirius.

As Sirius began regaining weight and the rumours began to dissipate, his good humour seemed to return, along with his inner (or in Sirius's case outer) Marauder. During the day, Sirius could be found practicing Quidditch, or stealing food from the kitchens, or plotting pranks with James who was delighted to have his partner in crime back to normal again. When he decided Remus was working too hard, Sirius would cuddle up and huff down his neck until Remus agreed to an extended snogging session in the dorm or an empty classroom, or to aid the other Maruaders in pulling minor pranks on the rest of the school. To all intents and purposes, Sirius seemed to be back to normal.

At night, however, Remus was woken frequently by the sharp, metallic scent of fear and would slip out of bed to lie next to Sirius who whispered and babbled with sherry-tinted breath about shadow-beasties and the creeping, creeping dark, as he borrowed and wormed his way closer to Remus's warmth before falling into fitful sleep.

Daytime-Sirius was wild, boyish, and overflowing with pranks and mischief and puppy-dog tails – completely free of worries or fears or the shadows of cellar-dark memories.

Night-time-Sirius was dark and hopeless - driven to the point of coppery, fear-filled insanity.


	53. Operation Sexy Sock Puppets

_Breaking with old friends is one of the most painful of the changes_

_in all that piling up of a multitude of small distasteful changes that_

_constitutes growing older._

_(John Dos Passos) **  
**_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius had never meant to break his promise to Remus. It was something he felt completely helpless against; as if he were sliding down a vertical, slim-coated tunnel. He tried to get a grip - to keep himself from falling, to attempt to claw his way back up into sunlight – but the walls were too slippery and he just kept going down.

There was a room he had discovered on the seventh floor, opposite a tapestry of someone called Barnabas the Barmy who appeared to be teaching trolls to ballet-dance. He was sure it hadn't been there before, and it wasn't on the Maruader's map. He had found it one evening when he couldn't stand the rowdy, cheerful chatter of the common room anymore and had escaped, searching for somewhere where he could sit and think without being disturbed by his classmates or the shadows.

It was the strangest room he had ever seen, and he wondered whether it only appeared to those who were desperate for some peace, running and afraid of the creeping shadows. It was medium-sized and completely empty of furniture except for four, giant red and gold beanbags which were clustered together in the middle of the room. They made no shadows at all, because the walls and the high ceiling were made of the palest stone Sirius had ever seen, and actually seemed to glow with light. Floating candles – like those in the Great Hall – hovered everywhere. Along every wall, across the ceiling, floating gently through the air in-between. The room was a sanctuary of light that chased away every shadow.

When Sirius lay on the Gryffindor-coloured beanbags, he felt himself relaxing properly for the first time since the summer holidays. He could close his eyes and not be afraid of any dark shadow-demons creeping up on him. Lying there, cushioned by red and gold silk, he felt like a Gryffindor again.

He knew he should tell the others about the room, but some deep, desperate, selfish part of him wanted -  _needed_  - somewhere to retreat to. Somewhere without the concerned looks, and careful handling, and pretending that everything was alright again even when it clearly wasn't. Somewhere where the other Marauders weren't always there waiting, waiting, waiting for the moment when he would snap.

He couldn't blame them. As soon as he left the room, his irrational fears flooded back full-force, along with the desperate longing for the oblivion of alcohol. He had resisted that longing though – resisted it until one day he became hungry alone in his secret room and crept down to the kitchen to get some food off the elves.

It was Dumbledore's fault, Sirius told himself later, as he stumbled back up to the tower long after curfew. It was Dumbledore's fault for having special guests visiting, and ordering a posh dinner that involved cooking sherry. If Sirius hadn't seen the house elves cooking away at the stoves in the kitchen - tipping the sherry into the pan and filling the air with the spicy scent of alcohol – he would never have broken his promise.

And it was the elves' fault as well, because they always gave him whatever he asked for to eat or drink.

But as he sneaked into the dorm and glanced guiltily over to Remus's bed, where the other boy was curled up in in his habitual wolf-like ball by his pillows only just visible through his half-open curtains, he knew it was his own fault. He had broken his promise and he hated himself for it.

The dreams came as soon as he crawled into bed and closed his eyes. Dreams of vanishing light and black, scuttling shadows with creeping tentacles and fronds of darkness that crept closer and threatened to fill his blood with darkness.

Then Remus was there, murmuring something about broken promises and struggling to get away, but all Sirius could do was clutch him closer because Remus was strong and light and kept away the shadows and Sirius  _needed_ him. And Remus gave in and crawled in beside Sirius, curling around him and huffing soft reassurances into his ears as Sirius drifted back to sleep.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Just as Sirius knew with absolute certainty at night time, that the shadow-monsters existed and wanted to leach his light from him, in the day time, he was absolutely certain that he was completely insane and paranoid. He knew for a fact that the shadows were just that – shadows. There were an absence of light that had nothing to do with dark magic, or demons.

Every time he thought about his night-time fears, he felt himself squirm inside with acute embarrassment – especially when he was around Remus. Remus saw him at his worst. Remus saw him drunk and whimpering and terrified. Sirius was furious with himself for constantly breaking his promise to the werewolf, and for allowing his fears to overtake him.

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that the person he was at night had nothing to do with who he really was. That scared, half-crazy creature was another being – one who disgusted Sirius and made him angry and ashamed. He refused to discuss shadow-scared-Sirius during the day, or even to acknowledge his existence. Remus had given up on trying to bring up the subject after Sirius disappeared for a whole day the last time he tried.

Unless Sirius was mistaken, Remus seemed to be just as happy to keep his two personas separate. During the day, Remus treated him as he always had – kissing him, berating him, trying to make him do his homework, plotting new pranks, putting on an expression of good-natured suffering when James and Sirius teased him about being a bookworm.

And yet Sirius couldn't help but notice that Remus's smile wasn't quite as wide as it had been, and that he almost never grinned anymore, let alone laughed. His shoulders seemed hunched in a way that they hadn't been since he and Sirius had been together, and although he said nothing, Sirius knew that it was all his own fault, and the guilt gnawed at him like a constant ache in his belly.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was two weeks into October; early evening, so daytime-Sirius still had the helm. James and Sirius were seated together on the sofa in front of the common room fire, while a furious Lily Evans towered over them.

"You are a couple of irresponsible, arrogant, dull-witted idiots!" she raged, her temper in full flow. "I don't know what you were  _thinking! Were_  you even thinking? I have a good mind to report you to  _Dumbledore_!" She had been yelling at them in the same vein for the past twenty minutes, and had become so worked up, that she hadn't even noticed that the two boys weren't paying her words the slightest bit of attention anymore.

James was seated beside Sirius, staring up at Lily with an expression of glazed awe on his face as he took in her flushed cheeks, blazing green eyes and temper-ruffled hair. His mouth was half-open and Sirius hoped he wasn't going to start drooling any time soon.

Sirius had tuned out her lecture much in the same way as he tuned out Professor McGonagall's and was currently plotting his escape. He felt his face light up when the portrait opened and he spotted Remus climbing through burdened by an armful of books.

"Moony!" he called, interrupting Lily's tirade with relief. "Come rescue us."

Lily broke off and swung around to face Remus. "You!" she snapped.

Remus looked rather alarmed and took a step back. "Me? What did  _I_ do?" he cast a suspicious glance at James and Sirius.

" _You_ are a prefect! It is your  _duty_ to do a better job of keeping your thick-headed  _friends_ under control."

Remus's face took on the hunted look he got every time he was reminded of his perfecting duty after another of James's and Sirius's hair-brained schemes. He had been rather horrified when the badge came with his letter that summer. "I don't control them, Lily. The best I can do is hang on grimly, close my eyes, and go along with the ride."

"Well, you should at least  _try!_ "

"Why? What have they done this time?" Remus put his books down on the low coffee table in front of the sofa and assumed his best 'Stern Prefect Moony' face. It didn't work on Sirius who just found it hot.

"We didn't do anything wrong, Moony!" James whined. "We were educating the younger years."

"You what?" Remus shot Lily a confused look.

"I  _found_ them," she said, "giving 'sex education' lessons in one of the empty classrooms to a number of first and second years from all the Houses."

"You  _WHAT_?" Remus turned an interesting shade of puce and gaped at James and Sirius.

"We thought it was about time something useful got taught at Hogwarts," Sirius defended himself, giving Remus his best puppy-dog eyes. He wondered if they would get more appealing once he'd properly mastered his animagus form.

" _Sex_ education?" Remus squeaked. "What were you  _thinking_?"

"It was a really good class," James told him. "We had lesson plans and everything."

"And sock puppets," Sirius put in. "For visual aid. I don't see what's so bad about it."

Lily gave a loud groan and tugged at her hair in frustration. Sirius tried not to notice how James went scarlet in response and shifted in his seat. "It's just so  _wrong_ , Black," Lily said, scowling at him.

"But  _why_?" Sirius asked.

"Well, putting aside the moral implications for a while, there is now a large portion of the first and second year population who have been left with the impression that sex involves humping your best friend's arm while dressed as a sock!"

"We were just doing our bit in the effort to reduce teenage pregnancy."

There was an odd kind of choking, spluttering sound from Remus's direction, and the others turned to look at him in alarm.

"Are you okay, Moony?" Sirius was worried. The werewolf had gone an even more impressive shade of scarlet than James. His hands were in front of his mouth, and he appeared to be choking on his own tongue.

Their concerned expressions seemed to be too much for him, because Remus's self-control seemed to break down completely, and he exploded into a fit of hysterical, boyish giggles that caused his whole body to shake. He leaned against Lily's shoulder for support, and Sirius could just make out the words 'sock' and 'humping'.

Sirius found that he couldn't tear his eyes away. Remus's shoulders shook with laughter, his eyes streamed, and his mouth was half-open, so Sirius could just see a flash of white teeth and pink tongue.

It had been such a long time since Sirius had seen Remus laugh like this that he was completely mesmerized by the sight. It was as though the stress of the past weeks was dissolving into laughter and pouring in streams from Remus's mouth.

"Remus stop it!" Lily ordered. "It's not funny!"

"Yeah, get a grip, mate," James put in. "Otherwise I think Padfoot might jump you right here in the common room."

Remus took a few gulps of air in an effort to calm himself. "Well," he gasped. "He's not dressed as a sock, so I don't reckon I have much to worry about."

"I've got a sock costume upstairs if you want to join me," Sirius said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

There was a gagging sound from the portrait hole and the others turned to look at Peter who had just come from the kitchens judging by his armful of angel-cakes. "I do not even  _want_  to know what circumstances led to Moony finding Sirius-in-a-sock-costume sexually arousing," he said. "So please don't tell me. Angel-cake anyone?"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Is she gone?" Sirius hissed to Peter, peering through the thin fabric of the invisibility cloak at his friend. Sirius and James had taken to avoiding Lily in the few days following 'Operation Sexy Sock Puppet', because whenever she spotted one of them, she would launch once more into her irresponsibility lecture. She was trying to persuade them to turn themselves in to Professor McGonagall as it would prove that they 'were sorry and regretted their actions'. Since Sirius or James were neither sorry or regretful, she wasn't having much success. Even James had tired of her constant nagging – and his desire to escape it now outweighed his desire to stare at her.

The two dark-haired Marauders had taken to carrying the invisibility cloak with them whenever they left the safety of their dorm.

It was now Saturday and Sirius and Peter had abandoned James and Remus who were having a heated debate about the intricacies of the transfiguration spell they used to turn Professor Flitwick's shoes into stilts over lunch. They were on their way from the Great Hall to the common room when they spotted Lily in the library corridor.

Sirius immediately ducked back around the corner and tugged the invisibility cloak out from where it had been stored, shrunken, in his pocket.

"She's standing outside the library talking to Snivellus," Peter said, in answer to his question.

" _What?_  Why would she be talking to Snivellus. Is he being mean to her?" Sirius peered over Peter's shoulder. "She's not there."

"They just went into the library. It looked like they were arguing."

Sirius frowned. Much as he disliked Lily's lecturing, he was quite fond of the girl herself. After all – if it hadn't been for her, he would never have admitted his feelings for Remus.

"Let's go and see if she needs rescuing," he said. "Come – get under the cloak with me."

They shuffled awkwardly to the library. Sirius – who was nearing six foot – was too tall, and Peter was too chubby for them to fit as easily together under the cloak as they used to. Sirius had to walk along with his knees bent so their feet didn't show.

They entered the library just in time to catch a glimpse of red hair disappearing behind the bookshelves at the back of the library, and hurried in that direction.

"I'm tired of you always nagging me about it!" Snape was saying as Sirius and Peter approached. "I don't see why I should listen to you when your little Gryffindor friends are just as bad!"

"There's nothing wrong with Rebecca and Alice," Lily replied hotly.

"I wasn't talking about  _them_ ," Snape said, a sneer in his voice. "I was talking about those  _boys_. Black and Potter and the two hangers-on."

"I'm  _not_ friends with Black and Potter!" Sirius and Peter snuck round the bookcase in time to catch her scowl. "But there's nothing wrong with Remus. He's nice."

Snape snorted in disgust.

"Besides," Lily continued, "we weren't talking about them. We were talking about you and how you've taken hanging round with that revolting Rosier and Nott and the rest of them. Everyone knows they're into into the Dark Arts, you know. And there's rumours going round that they plan to join Voldemort when they get out of school."

Sirius and Peter exchanged confused glances. They couldn't understand why Lily and Snape were having a conversation that sounded as though it was a squabble among friends, rather that a fight between enemies.

"You were the one that told me to try and make friends in my own house," Snape said. "It was your idea to keep the fact we're friends quiet."

"I was trying to make life easier for you, Severus! They would have bullied you if they knew you were friends with a Gryffindor Muggleborn witch. But I wanted you to make  _nice_  friends. There are some good people in Slytherin."

"You have no right to tell me who to make friends with."

Lily sighed, the fight seeming to go out of her. "I'm just worried about you," she said, putting her hand on Snape's bony shoulder. "I don't want you to fall in with the wrong crowd and get in over your head."

Snape glanced down at her hand, then looked away. There was a pained expression on his face, and a faint flush on his prominent cheekbones. Sirius felt like gagging when he realised he had seen a similar expression on James's face when he spoke about Lily. Did the greasy git fancy her, too?

"I know what I'm doing, Lily," he said, and the gentle tone he used didn't really fit with his voice at all. "I'll be careful."

Lily smiled at him. "Make sure that you do. I wouldn't want to lose your friendship after all these years." She grinned suddenly and pulled herself up onto a desk, planting her feet on the chair. "Now, I need your advice on something."

Snape's face took on a slightly wary expression. "I'm not great at advice. You know that. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment instead?"

Lily laughed and Sirius bent over and mimed vomiting, accidentally elbowing Peter's generous stomach in the process.

"It's okay – it's about that potions assignment we have," Lily said. "I was wondering if you could suggest any for me to choose?"

"Let's go," Sirius whispered in Peter's ear, as Snape's face lit up and he launched into a lecture on fifth-year potions. "I might actually puke if I watch any more."

They exited the library in silence, checked the coast was clear, then pulled off the invisibility cloak.

"Well," Peter said, as they headed up to the Gryffindor Tower. "That was weird."

"Weird is not the word," said Sirius, anger and disgust churning in his belly at the thought of pretty Lily Evan –  _James's_ Lily Evans – being friends with  _Snivellus_ of all people. How  _dare_ he? How could a greasy git like Snape succeed where a good person like James had failed? "More like 'wrong' or 'disturbing' or 'nauseating'."

"What do you think we should do?" Peter asked, glancing sideways and blinking worriedly at Sirius. "You reckon we should tell Prongs?"

Sirius hesitated. "I don't want to, but I think we should. He'd want to know. We might want to tell him from a distance, though, in case he explodes."

"I thought  _you_  were going to explode," Peter said. "And you elbowed me in my podge. I think I've got a bruise."

"Sorry, Wormtail. I was overcome by retches when Snivellus made a joke."

Peter sniggered. "It  _was_  quite funny."

Sirius looked at him and Peter backed away, his hands raised protectively. "Joking! Joking!"

"You're such a wet blanket, Pete."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. You're  _our_ wet blanket. A Marauderish wet blanket. Probably red with snitches on."

"Er…thanks. I think."

"Anytime." Sirius waved his hand airily and continued to stride down the corridor.

Peter hurried to follow him.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sirius whispered that night, as he clung to Remus and shook. He hadn't had a chance to go down to the kitchen to drink that evening and his mind was working at a million miles an hour to form images of the shadow-demons that lurked beyond the safety of his wand-lit bed.

"It's okay. I'm here. It's okay." Remus ran gentle, blunt-nailed fingers through Sirius's damp hair and the warm pressure on his scalp eased Sirius a bit. He dipped his head and pressed it into the hollow of Remus's neck, kissing the warm skin that met his lips and feeling Remus shudder in response. Remus's fingers pulled out of his hair and traced down Sirius's spine as he moved to embrace Sirius more fully.

Sirius could tell Remus was hoping for more, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. His heart was still hammering in fear, and the images were still forming in the back of his mind. "Sorry, sorry," he whispered again, this time apologising for his inaction.

Remus gave a sad little sigh and withdrew a bit. Sirius felt the brief brush of the other boy's arousal against his leg as Remus shifted away, and felt guilty for unintentionally leading him on, even as the small part of him that was not currently fully engaged with his night-time terrors rejoiced in the fact that he had caused that reaction on the normally-reserved boy.

"It's okay," Remus repeated again, his disappointment not showing in his voice. "Just sleep. I'll watch the shadows for you."


	54. Lapdog Lupin

_Their rage supplies them with weapons._   
_(Virgil)_

**REMUS:**

Remus was almost bowled over the second he climbed through the portrait hole, having spent most of the early afternoon working in the library. Remus blinked up at Frank who had him pinned to the frame of the portrait hole.

"You've  _got_ to go up there and deal with them," Frank said, his expression urgent. There was an explosion from upstairs that made the windows rattle and dust to shower down from the ceiling. Remus glanced upwards in alarm.

"What on earth was  _that_?" he demanded.

"We dunno," Michael said, from where he was standing with a cluster of other Gryffindor students at the foot of the staircase leading to the boys' dorms. "James went up there earlier, and then Sirius and Peter went up a little while ago. That was when all the screaming and explosions started."

Remus groaned. It was the full moon tonight and he was irritable and in pain, and was definitely  _not_ in the mood to deal with Marauder squabbles. "I'll go on up and see what I can do."

"D'you think you should?" Alice asked. She sidled over to Frank and gripped his hand when another explosion rocked sounded from upstairs. "You might get hurt."

"They wouldn't hurt me," Remus told her confidently. "Don't worry about it."

"You don't look well, mate," Frank said, seeming to notice Remus's drawn face for the first time. "Maybe we should just call McGonagall."

"No, don't do that," Remus said hurriedly. "It's fine. I'll see to it. Don't worry."

Pushing his way through the throng of nosy Gryffindors, he made his way upstairs to their dorm. He winced when there was another loud bang on the other side of the door, and reached out to open it warily. Thankfully, his heightened senses warned him to duck as half a potions book and a pair of James's underpants flew over his head and hit the wall behind him. He glanced down at the torn book and felt his stomach clench.

"… _Dare he!_ " James was shrieking, his voice as high pitched as it had been before it had broken. " _And how could she WANT to be his bloody FRIEND. I HATE him! I HATE him!_ "

Remus stared, open-mouthed, at the chaos that was now their dormitory. It looked as though someone had attached a small, but highly explosive device to the base of all four of their trunks then detonated it.

Sirius and Peter were crouching for cover behind Remus's bed, and James was standing in the middle of the room, flinging their belongings around in a fit of fury with the help of his uncontrollable magic.

Remus didn't stop to think. The sight of his neatly ordered trunk that contained practically everything he owned, now overturned and empty, spurred his already-ragged temper into action. He strode into the room, grabbed James by the front of his robes and easily pinned the taller boy to the wall. Remus's arms were stretched above his head so that James's feet dangled off the floor.

James was so shocked he just hung there gaping at Remus, the fury slowly unclouding his eyes. There were a series of loud thumps as flying objects fell to the floor around them. Sirius and Peter crept out from behind the bed.

"Moony, mate," Peter said hesitantly. "Let him down. He can't breathe."

Remus ignored him, his stomach still churning with anger. "Those are my  _things_!" he spat at James. "They're my  _things!_  I don't own much, and I know none of it's very impressive, but now you have  _ruined_  everything!" He shook James for effect.

Sirius stepped forward and tried to pry Remus's fingers from James's robes. The bespectacled Marauder could only wheeze ineffectually. "Remus, Moony, let go. You're hurting him!"

"That was my  _mother's_  book!" Remus said, his own voice cracking now. "My  _mother's_ potions book that's now lying in pieces in the corridor! Are you  _happy_ now? Are you  _HAPPY?_ "

Warm arms wound around his waist and tugged. Lips pressed to the back of his neck. "Let him go, Moony. You're hurting him. Look, he's turning purple. I'll fix your book. He didn't mean to break it." Sirius pressed another kiss to the skin just below his ear.

Remus looked up at James's face which was, indeed, verging on a shade of violet-puce. In a rush, he came back to himself, guilt washing over him in a wave. He opened his hands, backing away into Sirius's hold. "Oh, Merlin! James, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

James slid to the floor, his chest heaving in breaths of air, his glasses crooked on his nose. Oddly, he looked equally sorry, in spite of the face that Remus had just tried to strangle him with his own robes. "I'm sorry, too, Moony. I didn't mean to break your book. I really didn't. I lost control."

Remus pressed a frustrated palm to his face. "Just…what the hell is going on here?"

"Did you know that Lily Evans –  _my_ Lily Evans – is friends with bloody  _Snivellus_  of all people?"

Remus felt everything click into place and he let out a groan as he pulled out of Sirius's embrace. "How do you know that?"

"Padfoot and Wormtail saw them in the…hang on! How do  _you_ know that?"

"They sit together in the library quite often," Remus said. "Near the back so most people don't see them." He shot an incredulous glance at Peter and Sirius. "You  _told_ him?"

Both of them had the grace to look embarrassed, but James only looked furious again. "You  _knew?_ Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you would react like this!" Remus snapped. "I knew you would just make life miserable for everyone. Why should I have told you?"

"Because that's what friends  _do_." James stood up and glared down at Remus. "And I had a right to know!"

"A  _right_  to know?" Remus laughed, unable to help himself. Moony howled happily in his mind, loving the way his usually-reserved human counterpart was losing control and letting his anger free. "What  _right_ do you have? Lily doesn't even  _like_ you, and I can see why if you believe that you have a  _right_ to choose and control who her friends are!"

"Remus!" Sirius took a step away from him and staring in shock.

James was shaking with anger. "Some friend  _you_ are," he spat, and stormed from the dorm and down to the common room.

Remus, Sirius and Peter stood in silence for a few long moments, before Remus suddenly remembered his mother's potions book. Running over to the doorway, he knelt down to scoop up the torn pages into his lap. He bent over them and hated himself for the fact he was fighting back tears. The book was broken, and what was worse was that he thought he might just have broken his friendship with the other Marauders as well. James had looked furious, and Sirius and Peter angry and disbelieving.

"I told you, you just need to cast  _reparo_  on it," Sirius said, his voice frosty as he stood beside Remus. "Here, I'll do it;  _rep –_ "

"No!" Remus bent forward, covering the half-a-book he had cradled in his lap. "Don't you dare!"

Sirius stared at him, looking nonplussed. "Why?"

"Sh-she wrote in it," Remus explained. "It was her favourite book – really rare. Written in the fifteenth century. She wrote notes in it, and some of the pages are smudged with her potions and her fingerprints. If you cast  _reparo_  on it, those might go away."

Sirius's mouth formed a small 'o' of understanding. Neither he nor Peter said anything for a few seconds, then Peter walked over to Sirius's bed and picked up something that was lying on the floor by Sirius's trunk. He brought it over to Remus.

"Here's the rest of it, Moony," he offered, holding out the ragged leather cover that still contained a fair chunk of the pages. It was an awkward attempt at apology, but Remus was so glad to hear it. It was his worst fear in the world that he would lose his friends.

The moment didn't last very long, because there was an infuriated girlish shriek from downstairs followed by the crash of something delicate being thrown against a stone wall. " _How DARE you, Potter! How DARE you lecture me on HOUSE LOYALTY!_ " It didn't take long for them to recognise the rage-filled tones of Lily Evans. " _HOUSE LOYALTY! You damn HYPOCRITE! The amount of points you and your bunch of MISCREANTS lose shows more loyalty to SLYTHERIN than Gryffindor!_ "

There was another crash as Lily threw something. Presumably at James. Remus, Sirius and Peter shared a horrified glance, before sprinting downstairs to try and avert disaster. They arrived in the common room just in time to see James duck the ornamental bellows from the fireplace which rebounded off the wall behind him. Lily spun on her heel and stormed out of the common room, slamming the portrait behind her, apparently oblivious to the Fat Lady's muffled yells of protest.

Remus took one quick glance around the room of gob-smacked Gryffindors, then hurried over to the portrait hole to follow Lily.

"Where are you going,  _traitor_?" James yelled after him.

Remus swung around to scowl at him. James's black hair was even wilder than usual, and his glasses were hanging crookedly off the end of his nose. "I'm going after her to try and fix this before you ruin  _any_ chance of  _ever_ getting some kind of date with the girl." Remus slammed the portrait behind him.

Lily had disappeared from sight, but this close to the full moon, his senses were even more heightened than normal, and he could easily follow her scent as it trailed away from the common room. He set off at a trot and it didn't take him long to reach the library.

It was late afternoon, and the desks were filled mainly with Ravenclaws; a few Hufflepuffs dotted in-between. Remus hurried right to the back by the potions text books, where he knew Lily and Snape often studied together. Why the  _hell_ had Sirius and Peter told James? It hadn't ever even occurred to Remus to do something so stupid. Didn't they  _know_ how he would react?

"…And then he just –" Lily broke off from her teary explanation to a worried-looking Snape when Remus rounded the corner.

"What the hell do you want, Lupin?" Snape demanded, standing up from the table he was seated at and moving in front of Lily protectively. Lily gave a little sob and wrung her hands.

Remus hesitated, oddly touched by the protective gesture from the Slytherin. "I just came to apologise."

" _Apologise?_ " Snape repeated incredulously.

"You didn't do anything, Remus," Lily said, peering over Snape's shoulder and sniffing wetly.

Remus gathered his Gryffindor courage. He had to make it up to James. He couldn't live with himself if his friend hated him forever. "James didn't mean to be c-cruel," he said, hating the childish stutter that plagued him when he was nervous. "He just r-really likes you, Lily."

"W-w-well, y-y-you c-c-can j-j-just tell him t-t-to make his  _own_ damned apologies and not send his silly little s-s-s-stuttering  _lackeys_ to do it," Snape said, his voice deliberately mocking and cruel.

Remus ducked his head, a humiliated blush spreading across his face.

"Oh, don't, Severus," Lily protested. "Why are you always so mean? Remus didn't do anything." She stepped around the Slytherin and put a hand on Remus's arm.

"He didn't s-send me," Remus said. "I came on my own."

Snape snorted and crossed his arms. "You're such a lapdog, Lupin. It's nauseating."

"Don't you  _dare_  call him that, you bastard!"

Remus jumped and turned to see Sirius emerging from behind the bookshelves. He had been concentrating so hard on Lily and Snape he hadn't even smelled the other boy approaching.

"Sirius,  _don't,_ " he started, but was cut off when Sirius sent a hex flying at Snape, causing the Slytherin to stagger back, clutching his face with a mewl of pain. When he pulled his hands away, Remus saw his large, hooked nose was covered with expanding boils. He only had time to register this much before Snape sent two spells in quick succession in Sirius's direction. Two deep cuts opened over Sirius's eyebrows before he had a change to react, then he was hoisted up into the air by his left ankle and dangled there for a few seconds before Snape waved his wand again and dropped him with a crack on his head.

"Severus, STOP!" Lily begged, clutching his arm.

Snape spared her a glance, hesitated, then stalked over to Sirius who was stirring sluggishly on the floor. He aimed a kick at Sirius's side. "This isn't over,  _Black_." He stalked out of sight, muttering the counter-charm on his nose.

Remus fell to his knees beside Sirius, who was struggling to sit up, blinking blood from his eyes.

"Do you need help?" Lily asked, her voice rather cold.

Remus glanced up and shook his head. Her expression softened a bit, but she said nothing as she, too, left the scene, picking up the book that Snape had left on the table as she went.

"James is right, you are a traitor," Sirius mumbled, his voice muffled by the hands that were trying to staunch the flow of blood. He was swaying slightly and Remus guessed it had something to do with the blow to his head.

"You cast the first hex," Remus said, lifting his wand to heal the cuts over Sirius's eyebrows. "It was your own duel."

"You just stood by and watched him hurt me!"

Remus cast a short spell that siphoned off the blood dripping from Sirius's face and hands. "I was trying to make amends for James," he said, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. "You came in and ruined it."

"I was standing up for you. Snape was bullying you."

"He said nothing that wasn't true," Remus said bitterly. He moved his hands into Sirius's hair and felt for the bump, wondering if he had concussion. "I  _am_  a lapdog. You know perfectly well that you and James and Pete can make me do whatever you want. Look at me now. I'm bloody furious with you, and I'm still sitting here helping you."

"I'm sorry, Moony. I'm sorry." Sirius tried to catch his hands, and dipped his head to kiss Remus's unresponsive lips. "I really am. You know I didn't mean it. I'm sorry I called you a traitor."

Remus closed his eyes, telling himself sternly not to give in. He had to stand up for himself sometimes. Snape was right. He  _was_ a lapdog. He couldn't let the others have this kind of control over him.

He turned his head away, breaking the kiss. "I'm not in the mood right now, Sirius. I'm not feeling well. I'm going to the Hospital Wing. Don't even  _think_ about following me." He stood up and moved to walk away.

"Remus, don't you love me?" Sirius called after him, his voice cracking. Remus glanced back and Sirius looked so pitiful and heartbroken sitting there on the floor with his hair ruffled and his clothes crumpled and blood-splattered, that his meager attempt at righteous anger shriveled in his chest.

"You know I do, Padfoot. I'm just a bit upset at the moment. I want some time to myself."

Sirius nodded, watching as Remus turned and walked away.

Neither of them noticed the wide, black eyes that stared at them with shock through a gap in the one of the bookshelves.


	55. The Price of Alcohol and Forgiveness

_I look inside myself and see my heart is black_  
I see my red door and it has been painted black  
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts  
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black

_(Paint It Black - Rolling Stones)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius felt awful. He felt like all he had been doing since the others rescued him from the cellar was betraying or hurting Remus. It happened over and over again and he couldn't seem to stop it. First it was his promise not to drink. Then it was his inability to pay attention to Remus's need for physical affection when Sirius  _knew_ the werewolf so rarely asked for it, yet so desperately needed it. He knew that Remus was tearing himself up inside (and over the full moon on the outside) in his worry over Sirius's condition. And now he had hurt Remus again, going to far as to actually call him a traitor.

Sirius took another gulp from the bottle of cooking sherry he held in his hand. The irony of the fact he was sitting in a room he had selfishly kept secret from Remus, doing the very thing he had promised he wouldn't, wasn't lost on him.

Sirius pressed his face into the red and gold brocaded fabric covering the beanbag he was lying on and gave a miserable hiccough. Red and gold. Gryffindor colours. He didn't feel very brave right now.

Remus was alone in the Hospital Wing, shivering and spasming as his muscles and tendons stretched and prepared for his transformation which was only a short time away. Sirius knew that if he ran now, he could see him before he left for the Whomping Willow, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't decide whether it would make things better – he could apologise and show Remus how sorry he was – or whether it would make things worse – he was drunk, after all, and Remus had ordered Sirius not to follow him.

Why had he started drinking tonight, anyway? He vaguely remembered running from the library, guilt crouching malevolently in his stomach and tugging on every one of his internal organs. He remembered his own thoughts spitting bitter truths at him over and over again about how he didn't deserve Remus, and how Remus shouldn't be forced into the position of having to forgive him yet again.

He had found himself in the kitchen without even realising it, and the house-elves – always desperate to please – pressed a bottle of sherry into his hands without him having to ask. He hadn't been able to resist the lure of the blissful thoughtlessness that came from being incredibly drunk.

He looked down at the bottle in his hand and suddenly felt nauseous. It was the alcohol's fault, he realized. Everything had started with alcohol. It had started when he ordered the house elf to bring him his father's finest fire whiskey to his bedroom. From there it had been the posters on the wall that he had never had any intention of really sticking up. Then it had been the cellar and the barrels of wine and the shadows-demons that grew and mutated at the edge of every darkened space.

And of course, the promise to Remus. The broken promise.

It was all alcohol's fault.

He stared down at the bottle in his hand and leaned over the edge of the beanbag to vomit violently onto the floor. Sitting up again, he flung the bottle against the wall with his archetypal Sirius Black flair for the dramatics. It hit the wall with a satisfying crash, and glass shards were flung in every direction, glittering in the iridescent light of a hundred floating candles.

He needed to see Madame Pomfrey, he realised. She would be able to help him, and he knew she would be discrete. He could probably even persuade her not to mention this to Dumbledore or McGonagall. Or even worse, to the Potters or the Anders.

He sat for a few moments, watching the glittering amber river of sherry flow slowly away from the wall and along the cracks of the white-stone floor. The colour reminded him of Remus's eyes – a sappy thought that he would never have had if he hadn't been this drunk, he assured himself.

Then he pushed himself roughly to his feet, pulling his wand from his pocket and casting a quick tempus charm. It was a lot later than he had realised. The moon had already risen and Remus would be safely ensconced in the Shrieking Shack. He needed to go see Madame Pomfrey now, before he lost his nerve.

He couldn't wait to tell Remus.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It wasn't until he was actually walking down the corridor and the movement of his limbs caused the alcohol to rush through his veins that he realised quite how drunk he was. He couldn't seem to walk in a straight line, and he kept having to resist the urge to giggle at the thought of Remus's delighted face when he told him about his plan to get himself cured.

His thoughts were getting fuzzier and he took a wrong turn on the way to the Hospital Wing and found himself in the main corridor, just outside the Great Hall and the main doors. Damn!  _Concentrate, Sirius!_

He frowned, forcing his brain to remember the quickest route back on course. Yes, to the left, then through the tapestry of the lady with the unicorn. He turned – only to come face to nose with  _Snape_ of all people.

The nose wrinkled in disgust. It was such a prominent nose that the disgust literally radiated from it. Sirius repressed another urge to giggle.

"Good God, Black!" Snape snapped. "What the  _hell_ have you been drinking? You smell like an old pub carpet." In spite of his brave words, Sirius was sure he'd seen an odd flash of fear in Snape's eyes when he breathed in the distinctive fumes of second-hand alcohol. It reminded Sirius disturbingly of the look in Remus's eyes when he discovered the fire whiskey in the draw of the hospital wing cabinet.

" _My father used to drink this stuff…"_

"Oh, bugger off, Snivellus." Sirius snapped. He wasn't in the mood for a fight with the Slytherin. Besides, he'd felt a nauseating stab of pity when he saw that flash of fear. Unfortunately, he was more than a little drunk, and what actually came out sounded more like, "B'groff, Sniv'lis."

Snape looked maliciously delighted. "Ooh, you're properly smashed, aren't you, Black? Tell me, what would you do if McGonagall found out? Or your precious Professor Dumbledore? He thinks the sun shines out your arse, doesn't he? The Slytherin turned Gryffindor. The one who had the strength to resist the  _snakes'_   House."

Sirius struggled to focus his mind. He silently cursed himself for being drunk. Had he been sober, he would have hexed Snape and left him to rot in a puddle of his own grease. But if he hadn't been drinking, he wouldn't be in this position at all, would he?

"Don'you  _dare_ tell'em," he snapped at Snape, when he finally made sense of the Slytherin's words. The threatening tone was ruined by his slurring.

"Or what?" Snape laughed. "You'll puke on me?" He leant his bony frame against the wall. Sirius guessed he was aiming for a nonchalant lounge, but what he really achieved was the distinct impression of a vulture hanging on a coat hook by the scruff of its neck.

Sirius opened his mouth, trying to think of a smart reply.

"Is this a secret of yours, Black?" Snape asked cruelly. "You're a closet alcoholic? I'll bet you have a lot of secrets, don't you?"

Sirius stared at him blankly.

"I know all about secrets, you know," Snape continued. "And I know just how damaging they can be." His lips stretched into an expression that might be taken for a smile – if one was short sighted, confunded and mildly drunk on firewhiskey. "For instance, I know all about Lupin."

That short sentence hit Sirius like a bucket of cold water. Bloody Snivellus knew about Remus's lyncanthropy!  _OhGODohGODohGOD! Merlin help me! What on earth will happen to Remus if he tells? Oh GOD – the Ministry…the werewolf reservations…silver whips …_ And then it finally dawned on his shocked, alcohol-ridden mind.  _He's going to blackmail me. And there's nothing I can do. I have to do whatever he says. For Moony._

"Wha'do you want?" Sirius whispered weakly. "In exchange f'not telling?" Merlin, he wished he was sober. He needed to  _think._

Snape smirked. "I'm impressed, Black. Even when you're drunk as a skunk you've managed to catch on pretty quickly."

Sirius swayed and put out a hand to catch himself against the wall. Snape chuckled.

"I'm meeting someone in Hogsmeade tonight. Some of my friends are introducing me to him. It's a Slytherin thing, you understand." He sneered as his eyes passed mockingly over Sirius. "Or not, in your case. I doubt you're able to understand anything much right now, beyond the fact I'm blackmailing you from here to Timbuktu. I was going to try sneak out the main entrance." He nodded to the giant, locked, double doors. "But, I know you and your little friends know secret passages to everywhere. Tell me a way to sneak out to Hogsmeade, or I'll tell the whole school."

Sirius's breath hitched. It wasn't a  _terrible_  thing Snape was asking him to do. Sneak out to Hogsmeade. Of course this wouldn't be it. Snape now had Moony's secret in his grasp. He could force Sirius or any of the other Marauders to do anything, anytime, from now until they graduated, and even after. Remus's life could be ruined forever by this.

 _There's nothing I can do,_  he realised.  _I have to tell him._

Well, there were three passages to Hogsmeade from here. The one behind the mirror. The one behind the hump-backed witch, and of course, the one to the Shrieking Shack. He couldn't tell Snape  _that_ one. Especially not tonight. It was full moon and Remus was…

_Oh Merlin._

It was brilliant. A way out of this whole predicament. God, he was a genius, even when he was drunk. It would be the ultimate Marauder revenge. A Prank to top all other pranks. A way to prove that no one messes with the Marauders, and especially his Moony. They could get rid of Snape and his blackmail forever.

Oh the genius of it!

"Fine,  _Sniv'lis_ ," he spat, trying to sound reluctant instead of victorious. "I'll  _tell_ y'where a bloody passage is. It's unner th'roots of the Whomping Willow. There's a door leading ou'side from th'corridor of the Hospital Wing. Y'need t'get a long stick and poke the knot in th'trunk by th'entrance. It'll stop th'branches. The passage leads to Hogsmeade."

Snape grinned triumphantly, and turned to stalk down the corridor. "You'd better be telling the truth, Black." He called over his shoulder. "If you're not I'll tell the whole school about you and Lupin and your peverted relationship!"

Sirius froze.  _WHAT?_

And suddenly there was a second cold-bucket-of-water feeling. This one made him feel almost sober. He had the wrong secret. Snape knew about their relationship, not about Remus being a werewolf.

And then something else hit him.  _Oh God – I'm about to murder Snape. No,_ Moony _is about to murder Snape. I'm turning my Remus into a killer. Oh God, there's no way that could ever be hidden from the Ministry_ …

"What the  _hell_ have I done?"

He had to stop Snape. He took off down the corridor at a run, stumbling against walls as his woozy body tried to keep up.  _gottafindSnapegottaSTOPSnape ._

There! A dark figure up ahead, hurrying through the shadowy corridor. " _Snape!_  Stop!"

"Sirius?"

Sirius skidded to a halt. "James?"

"I've been looking  _everywhere_  for you! Do you know what time it is? I thought you might have done something stupid."

"Oh God, James, I  _have!_ I've done something terrible! You have to help me!" Sirius grabbed James's shoulders and shook him.

"What? What've you done?"

"I told Snape how to get through the Whomping Willow. He's going there now."

Even in the dim light, Sirius saw James's face drain of all colour. "Please tell me you're joking." Sirius gave a hiccoughing shake of his head. "And you're bloody  _drunk_ again. Oh hell, we have to stop him." Sirius nodded again, preparing to run. "No! You just…dammit! You just go tell Dumbledore. You're in no state to rescue Snape."

"But – "

"Just  _do as I damn well say!_ "

Sirius staggered backwards and nodded weakly. James turned and hurtled down the corridor after Snape.

_What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius was numb. There were no thoughts in his head, no emotions. His whole mind was just a gaping hollow of numb shock. It turned out that the quickest way to an oblivious, thoughtless state was not alcohol, but the irreparable betrayal of the person you loved most in the world.

He couldn't even remember how Dumbledore had reacted. He had vague, second-hand memories of stumbling up the stairs to Dumbledore's office and hammering on the door that led to his private chambers. He supposed he must have blurted out the whole story, because the next thing he knew he was being pressed roughly into a chair in the office, and Dumbledore was gone, still only dressed in his orange-and-purple striped pajamas. Sirius wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure that Dumbledore hadn't even been wearing shoes.

The only sound in the office was the whir and click of the various odd-looking instruments that littered every surface of the room and the soft pop of the dying fire in the massive fireplace along the far wall.

Sirius had lost any sense of time. He could have been here minutes, hours, days…he had no idea. Was Snape dead?

His mind remained blank as his stomach rolled and pitched sending burning acid up his gullet to scald his throat.

And Moony? Had he ripped the Slytherin to shreds?

His stomach rolled again, and he leaned over the arm of his chair and retched. He didn't have anything except the last remnants of sherry in his stomach and after a few long minutes of violent retching, he only managed to bring up stomach acid and black bile. Every muscle in his abdomen ached and spasmed.

He ended up sprawled weakly over the arm of the chair, staring down at the meagre puddle of vomit below him, unable to move as he huffed and wheezed for breath.

Sirius didn't know how long he remained in that position. He wasn't aware of the moon setting, and only realised it was dawn when the first morning rays of sunlight hit his cheek. He retched again.

Where was Dumbledore? He must have been waiting here for hours.

As if in answer, there was the loud grinding sound of the gargoyles shifting and the moving staircase. The door opened a few seconds later and Sirius tried to raise his head. It felt as though it had been filled with concrete and he only managed to catch a glimpse of Dumbledore's ludicrously coloured pyjamas and the two hunched figures following him, before his head dropped back onto the wooden arm of his chair with a crack.

"Take a seat Mr Potter, Mr Snape."

Sirius watched numbly, blearily, as James and Snape moved to obey, shooting glances in his direction, their eyes flicking to the puddle on the floor and Sirius's blank-eyed, vomit-smeared face. Some very, very distant part of Sirius was on fire with relief at the sight of the Slytherin's hook-nosed, largely-undamaged face. Snape was cradling his right arm with a wince of pain, and James had a healing gash across one cheek and a bulky appearance to his shoulder that spoke of bandages beneath.

"We have a serious situation on our hands, gentlemen," Dumbledore said. His voice betrayed no emotion and his blue eyes twinkled, but Sirius got no impression of warmth from the expression. They twinkled in the same way a diamond did – cold, ancient and impersonal.

"Black should be  _expelled_ ," Snape burst out. "He tried to  _kill_ me!"

"I assure you, Mr Snape," Dumbledore said firmly, "Mr Black will be dealt with very severely. However, as I am sure you were perfectly aware of at the time, Mr Black was not, and is still not, in the correct state of mind to have logically considered all the repercussions of his actions."

"I don't  _believe_ this!" Snape looked livid and helpless. "You're  _still_ sticking up for him? Just because he's one of your Gryffindor golden boys?" He spat the last three words as though they were a vile taste in his mouth.

Sirius knew he would normally react, probably angrily, but he still felt distant from his body and didn't even twitch as he watched Snape with blank eyes. He caught James's half-furious, half-worried gaze flickering in his direction and couldn't even conjure up a reassuring look.

"His House had nothing to do with – "

"Oh sure it doesn't!" Snape actually looked tearful. "Because if I had been the one to send Potter or Black to face certain death at the hands of a vicious werewolf, you would be letting me off too."

The shock of hearing Snape utter the word 'werewolf' was so strong that this time Sirius did move. His muscles gave an involuntary spasm and his breath hitched in his throat. Snape may not have known before what Remus was, but there was no mistaking his knowledge now. The last remnant of that hope shriveled and died in Sirius's chest.

"I believe the actions of Mr Potter can be considered enough of a reason to leave him out of your accusations," Dumbledore said rather sharply. "He saved your life."

"After his best friend tried to take it in the first place!" Snape shot back, sending a hate-filled glare at James who sat beside him. "He was probably in on the whole plan to begin with and got cold feet at the last minute!"

 _That_ accusation jolted through Sirius even more strongly. He, himself, may have been a traitorous, stupid, dark-blooded fool, but to accuse James – who risked his life to save Snape's – of being part of it was just wrong. James was the only reason Remus wasn't being shipped to the Ministry right now as a murderer through no fault of his own.

Sirius lifted his concrete-filled head again and tried to glower at Snape. "No," he croaked, his throat rough and burned from a night of puking up stomach acid. "He wasn't – he didn't have anything to do with it. You know that, S-S-Sn…" He could not bring himself to give Snape the respect of using his real name, but his guilt wouldn't allow him to call the boy 'Snivellus'.

"Oh, shut up, you dirty, werewolf-loving pervert!" Snape answered, sneering at Sirius. "I know exactly what you are!"

" _Enough!_ "

All three boys jumped. None of them had ever actually heard Dumbledore angry before. His silver-grey eyebrows were drawn together in a scowl that didn't look out of place on his face. Sirius suddenly remembered that Dumbledore had defeated the darkest wizard in three centuries single-handedly. He was the most powerful person in the Wizarding world right now, and Sirius's future lay in his long-fingered hands.

"Mr. Snape," Dumbledore continued, his eyes moving from one face to another. "From what I've gathered, you were by no means innocent in this whole saga. You were using knowledge of a very personal secret to blackmail Mr Black. Although, of course, this does not condone his actions, his actions also do not condone yours. You will be serving detention for a month, and you will be making me a promise not to breathe a word of Mr Lupin's condition or his relationship to Mr Black to anyone, or I will be informing certain authorities of exactly  _who_ you were planning on meeting in Hogsmeade last night, and why."

Snape went deathly pale, and Sirius felt a thread of interest try to break through his woolly shields of shock. James's head also jerked curiously in the Slytherin's direction.

"Mr Black," Dumbledore said, turning to him now. "You will be serving detention with your Head of House from now until Christmas. You will also be attending regular sessions with Madame Pomfrey to address the issue of your drinking which, Mr Potter tells us, is a problem that has been going on for a while."

That  _did_ break through his shields. The irony of it all. The fact that he had been on his way to Madame Pomfrey when this whole mess started. He remembered how determined he had felt – how brave. He remembered thinking about how proud Remus would be of him for facing his problem.

Now that was gone. Remus would never forgive him. James and Peter would never forgive him. Bellatrix was right – you can never escape the blood that runs in your very veins. The shadows; those wicked shadow-demons that crawled at the edges of his mind – they didn't come from the innocent darkness beneath a bed or behind a cupboard. He had every right to be afraid of them because they came from his family. From his blood. From himself. They weren't trying to get him. They  _were_ him. They made him evil and cruel. They made him a traitor and an enemy. He had argued his way out of Slytherin at the beginning of first year, but he could not argue the way out of his own blood. His own dirty blood.

He distantly realised he was laughing. Half-laughing, half-sobbing. It was as if the situation was so utterly ironic it was almost funny. The way he had been kidding himself all these years. Believing he was a bloody Gryffindor and worthy of James and Remus and Peter. Oh God, it really was just too funny.

Someone was shaking him, someone slapped his face. Someone yelled at him – something about him having no right to go crazy – not now, not after this. Then there was a potion vial at his lips and Sirius hoped it was poison of some kind. Something that would let him escape from this – his life, his blood. He drank eagerly and the world went black.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius woke to the sound of pitiful, childlike wails that sounded peculiar and wrong because they were voiced by someone who was clearly no longer a child. They were muffled through a wall of stone, but were still piercing and familiar enough to drag Sirius roughly from his potion-induced sleep by his heartstrings.

"Pad'foo! _Pad'foo! Moony sorry, Moony sorry!_ "

In spite of being drugged and half-asleep, Sirius didn't need to ask what was going on. The events of the night before rushed back into his head like a bitter wave of stomach-acid and he felt himself curl up as it washed over him.

" _Please! Please! Moony sorry…sorrysorrysorry._ "

Sirius's eyes cracked open and he found himself in the main ward of the Hospital Wing. Remus's cries, of course, came from his own private little room at the far end. Sirius couldn't prevent a deep moan of vicious emotion escaping from his throat as he pictured post-moon Remus sitting up in his bed, begging for him, believing he had done something to make Sirius angry enough not to come.

The voices of Madame Pomfrey and the other Marauders were low and muffled, struggling to calm and reassure the distressed werewolf.

Sirius longed to have the numbness back, but it seemed to have dissolved in his sleep, and the cement that had filled his head and made it empty and heavy had slipped down and now lay solidly on his heart. Everything about him ached.

He wished he could get out of bed and open that door. He wished he could watch Remus's amber eyes light up with relieved joy and feel him crawl inevitably into his lap, fingers twisting themselves into his clothing and that now oddly manlike voice murmuring, "PadsPadsPadfoot".

He knew he had no right to wish such things. He had given up that privilege now, but he couldn't help every part of him aching for it.

Sirius didn't make a sound. He didn't move, but he felt hot tears beginning to pour from his eyes as Remus's pleading continued. His throat clogged up and his nose streamed but he didn't move to dam the flow. He only lay there feeling heavy and ugly and useless as the wails turned to whimpers, which eventually began to disappear as well. Sirius guessed Remus had cried himself to sleep.

After a long silence from the other room, the door clicked open and a familiar figure moved out. Sirius's eyes were itchy and blurred with tears, but James's hair was impossible not to recognise even through those barriers.

He hesitated in the doorway, the white blur of his face turning in Sirius's direction and obviously seeing that his eyes were open. There was a long pause and then he moved up to the edge of Sirius's bed. Sirius stiffened, but otherwise didn't move. He was curled up on his side and couldn't bring himself to look up at his best friend's – his ex-best friend's – face. He didn't have enough emotion left to feel embarrassment about the fact the tears and snot were still running down his face and soaking into his hair and pillow.

"I made a promise to you last year," James said, the tone of his voice unreadable. "Do you remember?"

Sirius stared at the front of James's robes. They were dark blue and the patch that was level with Sirius's eyes had a smeared, chocolaty handprint on it, as if it had been grasped by frantic fingers.

"You made me promise," James said, as though trying to reassure himself. "You can't break promises, Sirius."

Sirius wondered if Remus had actually eaten the chocolate, or if one of the others had unwrapped it and given it to him in an attempt to calm him, and it had just melted in his hand.

"It was that day by the willow – not the Whomping one; the other one, by the lake. I told you to dump Remus because I didn't want you to hurt him or get hurt yourself. And you said you would never hurt him, and I said that sometimes you say stupid things without thinking and you don't mean them, but you might hurt him. Do you remember?"

Who had cleaned Remus up after he had gone to sleep? Sirius wondered. Who had done his job – carefully wiped each of his fingers as they curled up in sleep, cleaned around his half-open mouth that huffed chocolate-scented breath.

"You  _made_ me promise." James sounded agitated. "You made me promise that if you ever hurt him, no matter if you meant it or not, no matter what the circumstances, I had to choose him over you. Do you remember? You said it, Sirius. Him over you, every time."

How much would Remus remember of the night? Would he wake up thinking everything was fine. Would someone have to break it to him all over again? How would he react? Would he cry? Or worse, would he get that old, resigned look on his face that said 'of course. Of course Sirius betrayed me. I am a dark creature and a werewolf. I deserved it. It's not Sirius's fault'.

It would be terrible to be forgiven under those conditions. Sirius could never accept forgiveness that sprouted from Remus's own self-loathing, no matter how much he ached for it.

"So I can't be your friend," James said, and his voice, for the first time that Sirius could ever remember, sounded  _old_. He sounded mature and tired and world-weary. "I can't be your friend until Remus forgives you."

The door to Remus's room opened and Peter moved up silently behind James.

" _If_  he forgives you," James said, and instead of cruel, his voice was heavy with pity.

He and Peter turned and walked out of the hospital wing.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

No one informed Sirius of who, exactly, told Remus what had happened. It definitely wasn't him. He barely saw anything of the Marauders or any of his classmates over the next few days except in lessons.

He sat alone in these lessons, as far away from the others as he could get. He felt speculative eyes on him, and knew that everyone was wondering what he could have done that was terrible enough to tear apart the most infamously loyal gang of Marauders. Murder, he heard, among the many rumours – which wasn't actually that far from the truth. Deciding to choose his family over his House, was another. Having sex with Lily Evans on James's bed. Transfiguring all Remus's homework into nifflers to let loose in Dumbledore's office.

No one actually dared to ask one of the Marauders for the truth. Especially after James –  _JAMES POTTER –_ had hexed  _LILY EVANS'S_ robes lime green and two sizes smaller after she pestered him one too many times. If Lily Evans could not draw the truth from the Marauders, no one would.

Straight after lessons ended, he would slip to the kitchens to eat dinner. The first time he had done that, the elves presented him with a bottle of sherry and he had taken it and flung it against the wall before stalking out again. Seeing as he now regularly missed both breakfasts and lunches in the Great Hall, he was very hungry by the time he got to bed that night.

After dinner, he'd go to Professor McGonagall's office for detention. Sometimes it was lines, sometimes cleaning or polishing, sometimes sorting potions ingredients for Slughorn. Once it was filing the massive box of detention slips dating back almost ten years into chronological order. It was more of a torture than Professor McGonagall had ever anticipated seeing his own name alongside James's and Remus's and Peter's, as though it belonged there.

Four-and-a-quarter years worth of detentions; the four of them making up roughly two-thirds of the detentions served by Gryffindor house in the last five years on their own.

When McGonagall came back to check on him after two hours and found him a quarter of the way into his third year, clutching a detention slip tightly in his right hand, his eyes blank and glazed, she prized it from him with surprisingly gentle fingers and sent him to the Hospital Wing.

Because that was where he spent nights now – in the Hospital Wing with the shadows now living inside him so that no amount of external lighting could chase them away. He lay wide-eyed and unmoving on his bed as they coiled and shifted in his stomach and chest cavity and worked their way into his brain where they replayed his stupid, wicked actions over and over again, chuckling gleefully all the while.

Sometimes Madame Pomfrey gave him dreamless sleep potion which made him wake up with cramps in his stomach and aches in his head as his battered body protested to the strength of the ingredients.

Night after night, day after day. Lessons, kitchens, detention, hospital wing, night terrors…over and over and over again.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_**Name (s)** _ _: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew_

_**House:** _ _Gryffindor_

_**Class:** _ _Third year, Herbology_

_**Professor** _ _: Ponoma Sprout_

_**Misdemeanour** _ _: Enchanting Professor Sprout's pink, fluffy earmuffs to stick to her head and repeatedly play 'I'm Too Sexy For My Earmuffs, Too Sexy For My Earmuffs, So Sexy It Hurts' over and over again until Professor Flitwick managed to remove charm. Then tried to escape punishment by saying, "You DID look very sexy and old Sluggy couldn't keep his eyes off you"._

_**Detention** _ _: Re-potting all the mandrakes in Greenhouse 3 at lunch in full view of all students who care to watch while wearing pink fluffy earmuffs_

_**Notes to Head of House:** _ _Minerva, please find out where the boys found that charm and confiscate the book. They're too clever by half, and allowing them access to such advanced spells is a recipe for disaster. I've never encountered such a close-knit group of troublemakers in all my time at Hogwarts - student and teacher. Many thanks, Ponoma._

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was long past curfew and there was no one in the common room as Sirius crept through it dressed in his hospital-issue pajamas. He was so thin by now that when he caught sight of his refection in the dark widow as he passed, he noticed that he strongly resembled a closed umbrella in the way that the over-sized shirt hung off his gaunt shoulders.

He crept up the stairs to the Marauders' dorm and gently, gently pushed the door open. Staying on tiptoe, he quietly snuck over to Remus's bed.

He just had to look at him. He wouldn't wake him up. He just wanted to see the familiar way Remus curled up wolf-like right at the head of his bed, making little canine snuffling snores as he slept; the way his tawny hair got all static and wispy and his fists flexed and clenched into his pillow with deceptive strength.

He peered through Remus's curtains and felt his heart stop. Remus wasn't there. Oh God! Had Snape told? Was Remus expelled without anyone telling him?

 _No, I saw him in class today,_ Sirius thought.  _He wouldn't look at me, but he was there._ So where was he?

He glanced around the room and his eyes landed on his own bed. The curtains were drawn almost fully closed. He hesitated for a long moment.  _Surely he wouldn't ..._

He went over and slipped through the small gap in the curtains. And there he was – just as Sirius had pictured him. Except he was curled around Sirius's pillow, not his own. And his slim body made a crescent-moon shape under Sirius's red-and-gold covers, not those of his own bed.

Sirius was frozen with a mixture of shock, hope and sadness. He had no idea how long he just stood there staring before the silence was suddenly broken.

"I know you're there, you stupid sod." Remus's voice was sleepy, but cold. "I'm a bloody werewolf. I know you're perfectly aware of that fact seeing as you used me as your murder weapon the other day, but perhaps my heightened senses have slipped your memory?"

Sirius flinched and took a step back.

"Sirius?" It was James's voice, sounding even thicker with sleep than Remus's. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Sirius took another step back, his heart hammering. He had not been prepared for this. He didn't want a confrontation. "I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered. "I'll just go." He turned towards the door.

"Wait.  _Lumos._ " Sirius's heart took control of his body and prevented him from leaving the room at Remus's command. He blinked in the sudden light of the werewolf's wand. Remus pulled back the curtains around the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Remus repeated James's question.

Sirius was aware of Peter sitting up in his bed as well, peering with sleepy curiosity through his curtains.

"I…I just wanted to check…"  _That you were still as wonderful as you always were. That you weren't suffering from all this as much as I am. That you still looked so darling when you sleep._

"Check what?" James said shortly.

"To check…to check…" he wrung his hands and took another step back towards the door. Then he stopped as his eyes fell on Remus who was sitting up in bed, his hair wild around his head, his expression screwed-up, though with what emotion Sirius couldn't tell.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry, Moony!" Suddenly he couldn't hold himself back anymore. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please - I didn't mean to…I wasn't thinking…" he staggered forward and fell to the floor by his bed, reaching out for Remus's hands. Remus jerked them out of the way, his face closing up.

"Don't call me that!" Remus's breath hitched. "You have no right to call me that!"

Sirius pulled back his hands and clenched them in his lap as he knelt by the bed. "You're right, I don't, I know I don't." He took a deep breath and let it out again. "I don't want you to forgive me, Remus. I'm not asking you to. I just wanted to tell you exactly what happened between Snape and me. Just so you understand…no, not understand, there was nothing understandable about it…just so you… know."

"I don't want to know," Remus whispered. "I don't want to know any more about the whole thing."

Sirius sat back on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest, pressing his face against them.

"Moony," James said softly. "Maybe you should just hear him out. Don't you want to know exactly what you're angry at him for?"

"No!" Remus gave a shudder. "Because if he t-tells me, I  _will_ understand, and then I'll f-f-forgive him and I'm so  _tired_ of forgiving him the whole time. Forgiving and forgiving and forgiving."

Sirius didn't lift his head, but he did hear James getting out of his bed and moving over to Remus. He didn't look up to see the older boy – the unelected leader of their little pack – pull Remus into his arms when it should have been Sirius's job. Peter followed James as well and Sirius heard the bedsprings creak as all three of them huddled together on his bed.

"Moony?" James whispered.

"Fine," Remus said, his voice defeated. "Let him talk."

And that was all Sirius needed. He blurted out everything. It was like he was vomiting the words. The room of light opposite the tapestry of ballet-dancing trolls, the bottle of sherry thrown against the wall, meeting Snape and his threats and blackmail. The misunderstanding about secrets, the brilliantly stupid idea for the Ultimate Prank, the realisation…

He wasn't sure how clear he was. He kept backtracking and remembering things and forgetting things. He kept getting hung up on stupid details like Snape's hanging-vulture-pose against the wall, and forgetting more important ones so he had to go back and explain. He didn't look up the whole time, and only spoke to his knees.

None of the others interrupted him, and eventually he trailed off, waiting for a reaction, any reaction, from the three on the bed.

Eventually, Remus took a deep breath. Sirius felt his eyes dragged up to the other boy's face. Remus was wearing an expression he had never seen before. It was twisted and pained, and so full of anguish it almost rendered him ugly. Sirius had never thought that was possible.

"You were there the last time I spoke to my father," Remus said, and in contrast to his face, his voice was soft and level and sounded almost emotionless. "Do you remember what we said? You watched the whole thing through that glass window."

"Yes," Sirius whispered, unsure of where this was going.

"He spoke to me about price," Remus continued, and this time it was him who looked away from Sirius's face. "He said we have to pay a price. He said there is always a price you have to pay to belong to someone."

"You don't belong to me," Sirius said, feeling sick at the thought. He never thought of Remus as a belonging. A gift, yes, one he didn't deserve, but not a belonging. "You never  _belonged_ to me. You're your own person."

But Remus was shaking his head. "I gave myself to you. Everything I am, Sirius, and you took it, so I belonged to you. And you gave yourself to me in return. But there was always the  _price_ , Sirius – just like with my father. All the cruel pranks, all the worry, all the sleepless nights when I had to hold you and watch for your shadows. And I was  _happy_ to do that for you because I  _love_ you. But the thing is, I'm always having to  _forgive_  you. Forgive you for pulling pranks you know I wouldn't approve of, for getting me caught up in them and punished, even if I had nothing to do with them, for taking so much physical affection from me, and giving me nothing back when I needed it. Forgiving you for breaking your promises to me. And now you're asking for it  _again,_ Sirius.  _More_  forgiveness. And I know you have so much to forgive me for as well…my eccentricities, my nerdiness, my lycanthropy, but I'm just so tired. And now I have to forgive  _again._ "

It was the longest speech Sirius had  _ever_ heard Remus make all at once, and every word of it felt like one more physical blow to his chest. And the worse thing about it was that it was  _true._  Everything Remus said about him was true.

"I wasn't asking you to forgive me," Sirius said eventually, his voice little more than a croak. "I told you I didn't want you to forgive me. I only wanted you to know what you're hating me for. The truth of it. And you're wrong about another things as well. I never had to forgive you for any of that stuff you said. They're not things I forgave you for. They are the very reasons I fell in love with you in the first place. They're what makes you Remus. They're what makes you our Moony. Or James's and Peter's Moony, now, I suppose."

Remus gave a hiccough and looked away. There was a long silence between them.

The tension was butter-thick and unbearable. Every second if it clawed at Sirius until he couldn't stand it anymore. "You know what? Just…Just…Forget it. I'm going now." He dragged himself to his feet and quickly staggered to the door.

"Sirius, wait!" Remus blurted after him.

But he kept going because this time he wouldn't survive the pain of turning round. Because he  _did_ remember Remus's last conversation with his father. He remembered every word of it. It was branded into his brain. And he remembered only too clearly what Remus had said to his father on that day.

" _Is this the price of belonging to you? Because I don't think I'm willing to pay that price anymore."_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

He didn't go to back the Hospital Wing. He got as far as the corridor outside before he spotted the door leading outside. He opened it and stepped out. The late October air was icy and cut right through his thin hospital pyjamas and all the way to his bone marrow, but he still felt choked by the unbearable tension that had followed him down from the Gryffindor tower. He had lost Remus forever. He knew that for certain now. The knowledge of it was choking him.

He started running - sprinting wildly and breathlessly towards the distant lake, picking up speed on the downhill slope.

His mind was filled with terrible thoughts and images, ones he couldn't block out – not ever again. They were driving him crazy with guilt and self-loathing and hatred towards his family and his blood.

He wished he could take his magic and burn them away. Burn away the taint of shadows and the Dark Arts. Burn away the impurity of his mother's and father's pureblood genes and all he inherited along with them.

Burn it all away and just stop thinking altogether.

There  _was_  a deep burning beginning in his stomach. At first Sirius thought it was his imagination, or an effect of his erratic running. But he had grown up with magic all his life and it wasn't long before he recognised the heat of raw power. It gathered from his core deep inside him and built in his belly, shifting and growing.

He smiled. This was it. He was burning. Burning it all away. His thoughts, his blood, his wickedness, his love. Everything he was. It raced up from his stomach in rivers of fire that poured through his veins, filling him as it grew hotter and hotter. He ran faster and faster, careening down the hill as the fire filled him. This was it. What did they call it? Spontaneous combustion, wasn't it? When a person just caught fire and burned from the inside out. Blissful oblivion.

And then it exploded, filling him, expanding. He was knocked off his feet by the power of it, rolling head-over-heels down the hill, his eyes closed, his limbs jerking until he finally slowed to a stop on the banks of the lake.

He lay still for a long moment, huffing and snorting and trying to catch his breath. Was he still on fire? Why didn't it hurt?

Slowly, slowly, he opened his eyes.

The whole world had gone grey.


	56. Finding Padfoot

__**"Forgiveness is the final form of love."  
(Reinhold Niebuhr)  
**

**REMUS:**

The moment he opened his eyes, Remus knew that something was terribly wrong. For one thing, it was night time, yet he could feel from the tugging on his wolf-self that the full moon was already two days away. That meant he had been in his child-like state for longer than he ever had before.

For another thing, he was in agony. After ten years of suffering through full moons and abuse from his father, Remus knew he had a high pain threshold, but even he felt that this pain was beyond the usual, bearable level. When he tried to move his body, it was completely stiffened and coated with a mixture of bandages and potions.

What on earth had happened?

His little Hospital Wing room was gloomy, the only light coming from a candle on the little shelf over the basin. It flickered and sent shadows skittering across the walls, shadows that Remus knew would have scared Sirius had he been here. On the little cabinet beside his bed, there was a pile of sweets and chocolates, as well as a pain-killing potion.

"Madame Pomfrey?" His voice was pathetically weak and croaky, and his throat felt like it was coated in a layer of dry bread. She must have set an alarm-spell though, because in spite of his almost inaudible call, she bustled in a few seconds later, her arms full of potions.

"It's good to see you're finally yourself, Remus," she said as she leant over him and began casting diagnostic spells. She gently slipped her arms beneath his shoulders and helped to prop him up against his pillows. "Here, drink this."

Remus raised his arms stiffly, inhibited by the bandages and clumsily drank the potion she handed him. He felt the pain and stiffness abate a little.

"What happened?" he croaked, searching his fuzzy post-moon memories and only getting a strong sense of anguish and desertion. He remembered screaming a lot, and people – James, Peter and Madame Pomfrey – trying to calm him. Other than that it was pretty much blank. "Where's Sirius? What's going on?" He broke off to cough as his raised voice irritated his scream-damaged throat.

"Don't talk, Remus." Madame Pomfrey reached out and smoothed the hair away from his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. "I think it will be best if your friends tell you what happened. They're just finishing dinner. They should be here any minute now."

"Oh, Merlin," Remus whispered. "I hurt someone, didn't I? I hurt  _Sirius_ , didn't I? That's why he wasn't there. I h – " He was overtaken by another violent fit of coughing.

"No!" Madame Pomfrey sat on the edge of his bed and gripped his hand comfortingly. "Everyone is fine. I promise you."

It didn't escape Remus's notice that she said avoided saying 'no one got hurt'.

"Please," he whispered. "Tell me what happened.

"Remus, I really don't think – "

"Moony!" He and Madame Pomfrey jumped and turned to see James and Peter entering the room. Expressions of great relief decorated both their faces when they spotted Remus's calm, rational appearance. He guessed – from the raw feeling of his cheeks – that he had been crying a lot over the two days.  _Two days!_  The thought frightened him. What if – one day – his mind just never came back? What if he was stuck in his childlike state forever?

"Hey lads," he rasped at them. He looked beyond them to the door, waiting for Sirius to make an appearance. "Where's Padfoot?"

Both of them winced and Remus felt his heart jerk in horror. He turned to stare at Madame Pomfrey. "You  _promised!"_ he accused, hating the way his voice sounded so high and childish. He could feel Moony pacing restlessly close to the surface, making it hard to think. "You  _promised_ he wasn't hurt! You said he was okay!" This time he ended up coughing so badly that tears ran down his raw cheeks as he gasped for breath. There was a faintly metallic taste at the back of his mouth.

"He  _is_ okay, Moony," Peter reassured him, hurrying over to the bed, closely followed by James. "Please just listen. We have to tell you what happened."

"'Happened'?" His voice was barely more than a wheeze now.

"Um…" Peter looked to James, obviously unwilling to take on the task himself.

"I'll go," Madame Pomfrey murmured. "Try not to upset him too much please, boys." She stood up and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Moony." James moved to take Madame Pomfrey's place on the edge of Remus's bed. "What do you remember?"

"N-Nothing," Remus whispered, trying not to agitate his throat any more. "Sirius and I had a small argument in the l-l-library, but it wasn't bad, and we sort of made up. But I w-wanted to be on my own so I went to the hospital wing early. That's all I remember."

"You had an argument?" Peter asked. "You two never argue."

"I w-was trying to talk Lily around for you, James," Remus said. "To make up for h-h-hurting you. But Sirius came in and r-ruined it. He didn't mean to. He was j-just trying to protect me."

"Protect you?" To Remus's bemusement, Peter sounded a little disbelieving.

"Of course he was," Remus said, his voice rising a little louder than a whisper in his vehemence. "You know he always does. Snape was being mean to me. He c-c-called me a lapdog."

"Oh, Moony, I'm sorry," James said, reaching out to touch his bandaged arm.

Remus shook his head impatiently, then winced as his aching neck protested. "Just tell me what happened, please." He couldn't help his eyes drifting to the door. If Sirius wasn't hurt, why wasn't he here yet? Perhaps he was just held up eating extra pudding at dinner. Or maybe he was getting some for Remus. He did that sometimes.

"Moony," Peter said in the gentlest tone Remus had ever heard from him. "He's not coming." He dropped down into the chair next to the bed.

"Why?" Remus hated that his voice could sound that pathetic.

James took a deep breath, obviously preparing himself for a hard task. "After you left him for the Hospital Wing, he went and got himself drunk again." It was clear that he was trying to keep his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "I'm not really sure of all the details, but he somehow ended up wandering around the school completely smashed. He ran into Sniv-Snape."

Remus didn't miss the fact that James had not used Snape's derogatory nickname. He did not even want to imagine what could be so serious that James would be reduced to that small show of respect for the Slytherin.

"Anyway, I think they got into an argument or something and Sirius…he…he…" James swallowed and his fingers clenched in Remus's Gryffindor-red bedspread. "He told Snape how to…how to get through the Whomping Willow." His voice was so soft at the end, that if Remus hadn't had werewolf hearing, he probably would have missed it. As it was, Remus felt as though someone had shot him directly through the chest with a silver bullet. A sharp pain lanced through his chest and a harsh burning seemed to emanate from it throughout his body. "No…" he mouthed, not even able to say the word aloud.

"Moony? Moony?" James was shaking him gently, trying not to aggravate his wounds, but he needn't have bothered. Remus felt so distant from everything, he wasn't sure he would even have felt it.

James was peering at him with wide, worried hazel eyes, and Peter had reached out to grip his shin with a warm hand. "I don't…I don't think he meant to," James said, voice trembling. "He was drunk. And he tried to stop Snape after he realised what he'd done. I met him running down one of the corridors and told him to go and get Dumbledore. Then I ran out to stop Snape."

"You…?" Remus looked at James feeling dizzy and faint.

"I had to, Rem. I had to stop him before Moony got to him. Anyway, I ran out just in time to see him disappear into the entrance under the Willow, so I went in after him. I tried to call to him to stop, but when he heard me he just started going faster and yelling 'It's too late, Potter. I know about the passage now'." James twisted his hands further into the bedspread, his face tilted down so he wasn't looking at Remus.

"I ran after him," he continued. "And then ran  _into_  him, because you – Moony, I mean – had suddenly started howling. He stopped and went completely white and turned round to look at me. He said 'It goes to the Shrieking Shack, doesn't it?'" James gave a shaky laugh. "He didn't even sound angry. Just really, really calm – that calm you get when you're proper terrified. I said we had to run away, and I think he was about to agree, but then Moony started howling again even more loudly, because I think he picked up our scent. I heard him banging round the upstairs room and then coming down the stairs. We were so far down the passage we were almost at the Shack by then, and the trapdoor leading up from the passage wasn't shut properly, so I ran up and tried to slam it just as Moony got there."

Remus felt himself beginning to hyperventilate, his breath coming out in short gasps that he tried to control. James shot him a worried look, but continued when Remus sent him a pleading look.

"Moony banged against the other side of the trapdoor and flung me out the way." James touched his own shoulder, which Remus noticed was bulky with bandages under his school robe. "You…Moony, I mean, started to crawl through and Snape started screaming. I think he actually wet himself then and I can't even blame him. You're bloody terrifying in that form, Remus. Your mouth and teeth were already all bloody from tearing yourself up, and your hackles were up. You looked completely feral. Luckily I hadn't dropped my wand and I sent a blasting curse at Moony. It hit pretty hard - I'm really sorry about that. It tossed you all the way back along the hall and that old dresser fell on top of you, I think. Anyway, I slammed the trapdoor shut before you could recover, and Snape – bloody coward  _Snape_ – actually came up and leant against it with me. It's a good thing he did, too, because you got up and started throwing yourself against it again. I think you hurt Snape's arm."

Peter snorted and James shot him a reprimanding glare.

"Luckily," James said, wincing at the word and sending an apologetic look at Remus, "Moony was pretty beat up by then, so he wasn't so strong. I used that locking spell we use on our trunks and grabbed Snape's robes and we legged it back up the passage to the Willow entrance. The spell isn't that strong, so just before we got there, we heard the trapdoor break. We threw ourselves out and I just managed to bang on the knot of the tree before we got pummelled. Dumbledore was running towards us – completely barefoot and in his pyjamas – and I'm afraid he sent another blasting curse at Moony again to stop him escaping before the Willow started moving again."

James stopped then, and Remus couldn't help noticing that the strong, Quidditch-hands that clenched in his bedspread were shaking with suppressed emotion. Remus wondered what that emotion was. Fear from having seen his wolf side? Disgust? Remus felt a wave of nauseating guilt wash over him.

"Oh, God!" he whispered. "OhGodohGodohGod. I almost killed you. And I almost k-k-k-killed Snape. Oh  _God_." And then something else clicked into place in his mind. "I'm going to be expelled, aren't I?" He looked at James, and knew his face was drained of colour. "Snape will tell everybody, and I will be expelled and sent to the Ministry and k-killed or put in a r-r-reservation." He knew he was getting hysterical, but couldn't stop himself. "And  _Sirius_ did this to me! M-my Sirius…"

To his shame he felt tears begin to trickle down his face again.

"Oh, Moony." James reached out and very, very gently put his arms around Remus. "You're not going to be expelled. Dumbledore made Snape promise not to tell. He won't tell. He won't."

"But he  _should._ " Remus's whole body trembling in James's hold. "I almost killed two people last n-night. I  _should_ be put d-down."

"No." This time it was Peter who spoke, tentatively taking one of Remus's hands in his own and trying to uncurl his fingers that were so tightly clenched his blunt nails cut into his palm. "It wasn't your fault, Moony. Not your fault at all. It was Sirius's fault, and Snape's for baiting him. And it was also Sirius's family's fault for making him go all crazy like that."

It was strange, Remus thought, the way he felt now. Part of him was just sitting quietly still and blank with shock inside his head. Another piece of him was burning with anger at Sirius and what he had done. And even bigger part of him was desperately trying to piece together James's story so that it would somehow fit in his head and make sense. Moony wasn't helping at all by keeping up a constant, mental howling over the betrayal of his most precious pack member.

It was like a dream he thought; one of those dreams where you keep switching from being in the scene and inside your head, to being outside and watching from a distance. And everything you see you  _know_ is right, and at the same time makes no sense at all.

"Moony?" James was trying to get his attention.

Remus looked at him blankly. "Leave me, please."

"Remus – "

"Please."

James and Peter glanced helplessly at one another, then stood up to go. James hesitated, hovering over the bed, his fists clenching and unclenching in helpless agitation. Remus knew he wanted to give him one of his trademark strong, manly hugs but was prevented by Remus's damaged state. In a sudden, impulsive, clumsy movement James bent down again and pressed his lips lightly to Remus's forehead. It was such an odd, un-James-like thing to do that a thread of surprise managed to penetrate Remus's blank state and he blinked up at James who looked like he already regretted the action. He pressed his fist tightly to his lips as if reprimanding them. Peter was staring at him in open-mouthed shock.

"Just don't –  _please_ don't – do anything stupid," James muttered around his hand. "Merlin knows Sirius is doing enough of that recently for all three of us." Looking scarlet with embarrassment, he spun on his heel and stalked out the room, followed by a bewildered Peter.

Remus slowly, painfully raised a hand to touch his forehead. He had felt everything James had been unable to say in that kiss. All the things he had wanted to pass on in a hug. Helpless, brotherly affection. Protectiveness as the unofficial leader of the Marauder pack. An apology on behalf of the one who wasn't allowed to apologise – not yet. Maybe not ever.

It said – breaking through all Remus's barriers of shock and hurt and anger and confusion – you are not alone. You are not alone.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus knew he had to be angry. He had to  _stay_ angry, because what Sirius had done was unforgivable. In the days following his release from the Hospital Wing, he had to force himself to completely ignore the pathetic, skinny shadow of a person that hovered round the edges of every class with hunched, defensive shoulders bent over his work.

He had to ignore the fact that the same shadow-person wasn't in the dorm and wasn't at breakfast or lunch or dinner for days that turned into weeks. He had to ignore the fact that this person got more skinny and more hunched and more shadowy every day.

He had to ignore him, because the minute he stopped and looked up, and saw that the gaunt, fragile, stooping figure was his Sirius – his  _Padfoot_ – he would helplessly forgive everything. Again. As he always did. Lapdog…lap _wolf_ …that he was. Total, angry, irrepressible forgiveness that he was helpless to hold back.

It didn't help that he was also trying to ignore Snape's snide comments of 'dirty dark creature' and 'pervert' and 'animal', and Lily's unavoidable pitying expression, and James and Peter's fumbling attempts at comfort and advice.

He knew he shouldn't forgive Sirius, but everything in him was aching to do it. He missed Sirius with an intensity that was almost frightening. He couldn't eat properly, couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate in classes. James and Peter, in uncharacteristic displays of compassionate subtlety, didn't comment the first time he crawled into Sirius's bed rather than his own at night, and curled around the other boy's pillow, breathing in the lingering blue-grey scent of approaching rainstorms that got fainter and fainter every night.

But of course, Sirius – being Sirius and impossible to ignore even in a state of deepest depression – had to break through Remus's fragile shields and sneak up to the dorm. And what was worse was that he hadn't come to beg for forgiveness. He hadn't come to intentionally disturb Remus at all. He had just hovered quietly beside the bed and watched Remus as he slept. But Remus wasn't sleeping and Sirius's guilt, sorrow and self-loathing was so potent Remus could actually smell it – sharp and bitter and silver, like a needle pressed through a frozen lemon.

And he was furious, because he felt that rising wave of irrepressible forgiveness rise in him in response.

Remus was not entirely clear on the conversation that followed. He remembered, too clearly, Sirius's story of the events of the night of The Prank. And he  _did_ understand, as he knew he would. And he  _did_ forgive. And the fact that he did made him shake with anger so he blurted things out at Sirius. They were jumbled, angry, half-formed thoughts, full of accusations of price and belonging and forgiveness. It was a dam breaking open and he was helpless to stop himself, even as he saw the way each word hit home like a physical blow, and Sirius's gaunt and shivering form shrank further and further away from him.

His heart screamed at him to stop, and eventually he did. But it was too late by then, and now he had to watch as Sirius left again. Left  _him_ again, and –  _Merlin_  - he deserved every minute of pain it caused him.

"That was really harsh, mate," James said, breaking the oppressive quiet that followed Sirius's departure.

Remus's breath hitched. "I know," he whispered. "But I couldn't s-stop once I had started. I couldn't stop. I should g-g-go after him."

He tried to climb out of bed, but James held him back. "It's in the middle of the night, Moony. You can't just go wondering round the halls."

"I  _have_ to. You saw what I did to him."

"It  _was_ harsh," Peter broke in. "But none of it was a lie. It was true, everything you said about him."

Remus jerked away from James and climbed off Sirius's bed. "But I didn't mean to say any of it. It just came out. And what if he...what if he goes off and slits his wrists or something?"

Both James and Peter went pale. "You think he would?" Peter asked tremulously.

Remus just looked at him.

"Oh Merlin, we have to find him!" James flung himself off his bed and skidded across the floor to throw open Remus's trunk. "Map, map, where's the bloody map?"

Map! Remus cursed the fact that his brain was so sluggish and unresponsive.  _He_ should have thought of the map.

"It's not  _here!_ " James said, flinging Remus's possessions around on the floor.

"Maybe we put it back in one of our trunks," Peter suggested. "We haven't used it since…you know…Sirius…"

Remus hurried over to James's trunk and started rooting through it, while Peter tried his own. James finished with Remus's trunk and started – hesitantly – on Sirius's. It was almost ten minutes later that James gave a triumphant yell and held up the piece of blank parchment.

"We'll need the invisibility cloak," Remus said, his brain just managing to catch up and function.

The three of them looked at their chaos of jumbled belongings and groaned. Then Peter let out an even louder groan and slapped his forehead. He held up his wand and said, " _Accio_  invisibility cloak."

James and Remus avoided one another's eyes, both feeling rather sheepish.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," James muttered, tapping the map with his wand. Remus and Peter bent over it as well, their eyes flicking over the tiny, named dots of Hogwarts' occupants. Luckily, most people were in their beds which meant that there would be less confusion as people moved around.

"He's not on here," Remus whispered eventually, his voice cracking. "What if he…what if he already…"

"He  _has_ to be on here somewhere," Peter said, bending even closer over the map. He sounded as tearful as Remus felt.

"I can't see – "

" _There!_ " James interrupted Remus, jabbing a finger at the map. Remus thought his heart might explode in relief when he saw a tiny moving dot labelled 'Sirius Black' weave its way clumsily up the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack.

"You think he might be drunk again?" James asked, sending Remus a worried glance. "He doesn't look very steady. He keeps bouncing off the walls of the tunnel."

"I don't care," Remus said, snatching the cloak from Peter's hands and hurrying towards the door. "Come on - the minute he reaches the end of the tunnel he'll disappear off the map."

James and Peter scrambled over the mess of belongings cluttering the floor to join him. The three of them didn't really fit under the cloak, especially since they were travelling at such a fast pace. Remus wondered if it would actually be better or worse for Filch to catch three bodiless legs wandering the corridors at night rather than three full humans. Perhaps his shock would give them time to run away?

He needn't have worried. James kept his eye on the map and guided them away from corridors containing Filch. They headed towards the door leading outside from the Hospital Wing corridor. It was already partly open and creaked in the cold October wind that whistled through it.

"Hurry up," Remus begged, as James paused to close the door behind him.

"If it slams shut in the wind, Pomfrey will wake up and realise Sirius is gone," James snapped, his worry making him short-tempered.

"I'm so stupid," Remus muttered, as they pulled off the cloak and jogged towards the Willow, uncovered. "This is all my fault."

"Nonsense," James panted, casting round for a long stick to poke the knot in the tree trunk. "This is just a really horrible, unavoidable mess that we're going to fix as soon as we've found him."

He found a long, flexible branch and jabbed at the knot, hitting it on his second try. Remus didn't wait for Peter or James. He put on an extra burst of speed, fueled by his werewolf stamina, and plunged himself into the entrance of the secret passage, running, stumbling, down the long tunnel, pausing only to pull his wand out of the waistband of his pajamas to light his way. He could hear James and Peter behind him, struggling to catch up.

At last he reached the trapdoor up into the hall of the Shrieking Shack. It was cracked and buckled from the events of the last full moon. Remus hesitated for a second before he pushed it open and pulled himself through.

Where was Sirius? He lifted his head and breathed in deeply. The whole house smelled of mould, dust and rotting wood, overlaid with blood and wolf. It was powerful and nauseating, but in amongst those smells, he could just make out Sirius's gentler scent, heading up the stairs. There was something slightly off about it. Something not-quite-Sirius, and Remus felt his stomach tighten in worry.

He hurried up the stairs and flung open the door to his battered bedroom. He was about to plunge inside when he skidded to a halt. Inside the bedroom, crouched under the window, its hackles raised, and lips drawn back in a snarl of defensive surprise, was the Grim. It was a massive, black spectral dog; its body as large and shaggy as a young bear's, its ears pointed and demonic in exactly the same way it was in illustrations.

Remus was frozen with shock. All he could think of was a line from his third-year DADA text book.  _The Grim is an omen of death. Having a vision of the Grim can foretell one's own death or the death of a loved one…_

There were hurried footsteps on the stairs behind him, and suddenly James was beside him, skidding to a halt, just as Remus had done. " _Oh Merlin,_ " he breathed in horror. "We're too late."

Then Peter arrived, and not having been blessed same coordination as James and Remus, bashed right into them, sending the three of them sprawling on the floor. Remus received a mouthful of James's hair and dust from the floor, and his hand landed in a crusted, tacky patch on the floor that his sensitive nose recognised as dry werewolf's blood.

He stiffened when he heard Peter's excited shout.

"Padfoot! You did it!"

Bemused, and struggling to escape from the tangle of boy-limbs on the floor, Remus turned to stare at Peter in shock. The chubby Marauder was staring at the demon-dog with an expression of delight on his round face, and suddenly everything clicked in Remus's head. He remembered Sirius's delighted exclamation after he had broken out of his meditation from the animagus potion.

" _Th_ _e Grim! The Grim! I'm the Grim. Take that, you mangy hedgehogs!"_

The huge black dog, which was currently backing away from them and slinking under the bed was Sirius in his animagus form. Of course! How completely and utterly stupid he was! Of  _course_ it was Sirius.

He noticed that James was looking more than a little embarrassed as well.

"Padfoot?" Remus jerked himself away from the Marauder-pile he had landed in and crawled across the floor to peer under the bed. This close, his nose couldn't be fooled. It was definitely Sirius under there, though his scent now carried a new, jagged, canine aspect. "Padfoot, you did it!"

There was a soft whimper from under bed, filled with doggy-anguish.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," Remus said, peering into the shadows and trying to make out Padfoot's dark shape. The air beneath the bed was sharp with the scent of grief and hurt and guilt, but there was no trace of fear. Remus wondered whether Sirius had overcome his dilapidating fear of darkness, or whether it was such a complex, psychological terror that it didn't fit into Padfoot's simplified canine brain.

"I do forgive you," Remus said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "And I  _want_ to forgive you. I'm sorry I said those things to you, my Padfoot. You're worth any price I have to pay for you. I've missed you so much the last couple of weeks – you must know that. You found me in your bed, for Merlin's sake."

There was an answering whine from under the bed and a shifting in the shadows. A furry, black head emerged to peer sorrowfully at Remus through large, grey eyes.

"Come on," Remus whispered, reaching out with a shaky hand to touch the top of Padfoot's head. "You're a dog now. Can't you  _smell_ how sorry I am?"

The canine language wasn't equipped to deal with the complexities of this situation. It didn't contain words like 'inconsolable' or 'heart-broken', or 'soul-wrenching guilt'. It didn't even really have suitable words for a simple phrase like 'I'm so very, very sorry that I don't think I can ever make it up to you.'

But Sirius did the best he could under the circumstances. As Remus reached under the bed and slid his arms around the trembling, soft-furred chest, and dragged him out and into his lap, Padfoot breathed out a stream of soft huffing whimpers that were translated by Remus's wolf-side to, "Bad dog... bad dog... Padfoot bad dog! Hurt Moony - hurt Padfoot's Moony. Bad dog..."

And Remus couldn't help a broken, sobbing laugh from escaping his lips as he bent his head to bury his face in the thick fur of Padfoot's ruff. He hated the fact that he could feel every one of the dog's ribs clearly defined under the covering of his black coat.

He ran his hands along Padfoot's head, shoulders and sides, trying to comfort and reassure.

"Yes," he mumbled against Padfoot's ear. "Yes, you were a bad dog, but you are  _my_ bad dog and I will always love you anyway."


	57. Hiding Padfoot

_"Avoidance is a wonderful therapy"_

_(Maggie Stiefvater,_ Linger)

**SIRIUS:**

It was indescribably wonderful to be in Remus's arms again, even in the form of Padfoot. He cuddled up against the werewolf's chest and breathed in deeply, enjoying the way that his new canine nose picked up so much more of Remus's scent that he had ever smelled before.

Remus smelled of chocolate, ink and the dry, cool stone of the Gryffindor tower. He smelled of old books and the soap the house elves put in every dormitory bathroom, although only Remus ever used it as the other three brought products from home. He smelled of boy and sweat from his sprint through the school to the Whomping Willow.

Those were the surface scents – the ones that came to Padfoot's nose first. As he pressed closer into Remus's arms, he caught new scents, layered under those. There was that fresh, crisp, autumn-smell, that Sirius had caught with his human nose on rare occasions when the surface scents hadn't been so strong. It was vivid and powerful and red-amber-gold, though how a smell could have a colour, Sirius didn't know. It reminded him of dry leaves, pine needles and damp earth. There was another aspect to it, too – one his human nose hadn't been sensitive enough to pick up. It was coiled and feral; leaving a lingering impression of fur and heat and bloodlust. Remus's scent was as contradictory and complex as his personality.

Sirius wasn't sure if Remus would understand his jumbled, doggy apologies. The canine language was frustratingly simple and his human mind scrambled for words that would convey what he felt. It didn't help that in this form, his was unable to hold more that two complex thoughts in his head at a time. His mind was still human, but there seemed to be less room to  _think_ in it. And his emotions seemed so much simpler. He'd ceased to feel fear of outside shadows weeks ago- when he realised the shadows inside himself were so much darker and wickeder. But even the fear of his own inner shadows seemed to have disappeared now. His mind and heart were too busy feeling guilty and anguished and sorry. While he felt all that, there was no room for the complicated, memory-blackened fears of the human mind.

Or perhaps it was because the red-amber-gold smell of Remus was so bright in his mind that it chased all the shadows away. And his voice was so comforting and warm as he whispered, "Yes. Yes, you were a bad dog, but you are  _my_ bad dog and I will always love you anyway."

And there it was – the elusive forgiveness that Sirius had not even dared to dream of being given. Remus offered it to him as openly and freely as always, uncaring about the fact that Sirius's actions could have meant his imprisonment, torture or death.

Sirius whimpered with love and happiness. He was heavy and limp with relief as he sagged against Remus, unable to stop himself from licking the fingers of one of Remus's hands as they wandered gently over his ears and muzzle.

Remus chucked softly. "Change back, you silly mutt. I want to hold you properly." It was true. In this form, Sirius was huge. Only the front half of his shaggy-furred body fit onto Remus lap and the smaller boy's arms seemed very skinny as they cradled Padfoot's big head.

He didn't want to change back, though. Changing back would mean the return of hundreds of complicated thoughts, all at once. It would lead to awkward conversations and real apologies. It would lead to the return of his human fears and the shadows in his mind. Being Padfoot – like drinking alcohol – simplified everything, and gave him a welcome numbness in his head.

So he shook his head and pressed it into Remus's lap, feeling the hands that had been running through the fur of his back grow still. "Come on, Padfoot. Stop messing around. We have to get back inside. Change back. I know you know how. You had no problem getting rid of the ears and tail when you got them."

Sirius shook his head again and looked up at Remus, trying to convey his apology with his eyes alone.

"What's wrong?" James asked, as he and Peter hurried over to crouch beside them at the note of worry in Remus's voice. "Can't he change back?"

"He can," Remus said, his fingers scrunching in Padfoot's fur. "He just won't."

Sirius scrambled awkwardly to his feet, backing away from them with his ears laid flat and his tail between his legs. "No, no," he said in that clumsy canine language. "No man, no man. Padfoot stay. No dark. Padfoot stay."

"Sirius, this is ridiculous!" Remus looked tired and frustrated. "You have to change back. You can't escape by being a dog for the rest of your life. Come on –  _please_ change back."

"Sirius, mate," James said. "This is stupid. We really do have to get back. And Madame Pomfrey will be looking for you if you're not in your bed."

Sirius shook his head again and turned away to scramble under the bed again. But Remus was too quick, and wrapped his arms around Padfoot's barrel-sized chest, keeping him from moving with the aid of his werewolf strength. Sirius noticed that the scent of the wolf grew stronger when Remus drew on it.

"Damn it!" James said, running a hand through his hair and shooting a worried glance at Padfoot. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"We'll have to sneak him back in," Peter said. "We've got the map. We can drape the cloak over him, so that if we do get caught there won't be questions."

"But what about Madame Pomfrey?" Remus asked. "She'll have a heart attack if she sees him gone."

James scowled at Sirius. "Just change back, for Merlin's sake!"

Sirius shrunk back and shook his head again.

The messy-haired Marauder sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched up in thought. "Okay, we're going to have to plan this carefully. Um… Pete, if I imitate Sirius's handwriting and scribble a note to Madame Pomfrey saying he was feeling better and wanted to move back to the dorm, will you take it to the Hospital Wing and leave it on his bed for her? Remus and I will try to sneak the mutt back to our dorm without getting caught."

Sirius could almost smell the relief coming from Remus and Peter. James was in his confident, planning, leader's role, and when that happened, they knew everything would be all right.

"Okay," Peter said. He sighed. "I guess you'll be taking the map and the cloak?"

"Yeah. Sorry, mate."

"If I get detention, you're in deep trouble, Padfoot." Peter glowered at Sirius. "The things we do for you – honestly!"

Sirius trotted over to him and butted Peter's hand in apology.

"You're just lucky I have a soft spot for dogs," Peter said, looking a little mollified.

"No as soft as Moony," James said, sending Remus a suggestive grin.

"Yuck." Remus wrinkled his nose. "You realise that if you stay like that, you'll never get to snog me again, Padfoot?"

Sirius whined and crept up to lick Remus's hand.

Remus sighed. "Please tell me this isn't some screwed-up punishment you're inflicting on yourself. I think you've suffered enough. You're so skinny right now, that if you didn't have so much fur, people'd keep trying to slot toast between your ribs."

Sirius pressed his muzzle into Remus's side, trying to think of a way to explain in the simplified language. "Padfoot need dog now. Just now. Later man."

"What did he say?" Peter asked. "You can understand him, right?"

Remus looked embarrassed. "Yeah. But it's not really a great language for conversations. I think he's saying he needs to be a dog right now and he'll change back when he's ready.

"Well, he'd better get a move on," James said. "He's lucky it's Friday night. After the weekend, people are going to start wondering where he's go to."

"You'll change back before then, won't you?" Remus looked at Padfoot imploringly. Sirius, knowing that he could rarely resist Remus when he wore that expression, avoided his eyes and pressed closer to his side. Remus sighed and scratched his ears, looking worried and frustrated.

Luckily, the time Remus spent in the room leading up to the full moon meant that there was a quill and parchment in the old, battered wardrobe of the Shrieking Shack's bedroom. James scribbled a note to Madame Pomfrey in Sirius's handwriting, his hand easily forming the elegant copperplate curls drilled into pureblood aristocracy as a young age. He handed it to Peter who headed off towards the Hospital Wing, leaving the map and cloak with his friends and armed only with his knowledge of secret passages and a resigned expression.

The trip back to the Gryffindor tower was very tense. James and Remus covered Padfoot with the invisibility cloak and scoured the map closely before every corner, having to take a few detours to avoid Filch and patrolling teachers. It was in the early hours of the morning when they eventually reached their dorm.

Padfoot shook off the invisibility cloak and leapt up onto Remus's bed, turning in circle before flopping down on the red-and-gold bedspread. Remus's scent rose up around him and he closed his eyes and breathed it in, still unable to believe he had been forgiven.

"You don't think I'm going to let you share my bed like that, do you? Change back." Sirius's head snapped up at Remus's sharp tone, suddenly horrified that he had read too much into the forgiveness and assumed too much. He felt his ears go down and his plumed tail tuck between his legs. He meekly shuffled to the edge of the bed, ready to climb off.

Remus groaned, and hurried over to shove him back again. "I didn't mean it, you dumb mutt. I'm just worried that someone's going to find out about you and you'll get sent to Azkaban or something."

"We all are," James said. He came over to sit on Remus's bed and sighed as he scratched Padfoot's ears – an automatic reaction that he probably would have been horribly embarrassed about if he's taken the time to think about the fact that the black dog was still really Sirius. "We really need to sort out your issues quickly, mate."

His issues. He wanted to protest at the statement, but found that he couldn't. How many normal people preferred the form of a dog to one of a human? He ducked his head and gave a soft whine.

"You'll change back soon, won't you, Pads?" Remus asked. He had kicked off his shoes and was sitting at the top of his bed with his back against his pillow. He stretched out his left leg and scratched Sirius's thick-furred ruff with a sock-clad foot. Sirius would have protested at the indignity, but it felt too comforting. Instead, he nodded in answer to Remus's question.

"When?"

Sirius looked away. Part of him wanted to change right now so that he could pull Remus into his arms and tell him that he was fine and that everything was okay again. The problem with this scenario was that he was  _not_ fine. He was afraid that when Remus had Sirius Black the pureblood traitor in front of him rather than big fluffy Padfoot, he might realise his mistake and take back his forgiveness. He was sure that the minute he changed back all those horrible fears and shadows would rush back.

 _Maybe they won't,_ part of him thought hopefully.  _Now you have Moony back._

 _He couldn't help me before,_  another part pointed out, thinking of the nights he'd spent curled and shaking in Remus's arms.  _And he couldn't now. Even if he still wanted too if I changed back._

"Before Monday, right?" James pressed him. "That gives you two days. After that the teachers will get suspicious. And Pomfrey. We can probably hold her off until then."

He didn't have a choice. No one could find out about his animagus ability. He nodded.

"And then you can tell Pete 'n me how to do it," James said enthusiastically. This is amazing! You won't have to be on your own anymore, Moony."

Before he or Remus could respond, Peter returned looking pink-faced and out of breath. "She caught me," he said, dropping onto Sirius's bed which was nearest the door.

"Who?" James asked in alarm.

"Madame Pomfrey. She caught me while I was putting the note on Sirius's hospital bed."

"What did she say?" Remus shifted forward and encircled Padfoot's neck with his arms protectively.

"It's okay. I said the three of us had sneaked down to visit him and that we were all friends again and that he wanted to stay in the dorm. She looked really happy actually. She wanted Sirius to come for a check-up tomorrow, but I begged her to let him off until Monday and she agreed. You owe me, Padfoot." Peter looked very proud of himself, and Sirius was so relieved that he launched himself off the bed and bowled the chubby Marauder to the floor, giving him a long lick up his cheek.

" _Eew!_ " Peter turned scarlet and tried to shove him off. "Get off, you flea-bitten mutt! Remus, help me!"

Remus, obviously managing to contain his laughter more successfully that James, knelt down and pulled Sirius off. "I'll get jealous if you go slobbering all over every bloke that does something nice for you," he scolded.

Sirius, suddenly realising that he had effectively just kissed Peter's face, was horrified by his instincts and mimed retching into Peter's lap.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was a wonderful relief to spend time as a dog. Sirius was perfectly capable of thinking human thoughts, but when he let his mind wonder, instead of dredging up scenes of betrayal and guilt and shadows, it fell back into a natural canine pattern that consisted of food, playing, sleeping and mating. Rather a lot like an average teenage boy, he mused, wishing that he, in reality, had only those things to worry about.

He stayed up in the dorm, curled up and dozing on Remus's bed throughout Saturday. The others brought him food and took turns trying to convince him to change back. Remus, of course, was the hardest to resist, especially when he said nothing at all. He'd just climb onto the bed and curl up against Padfoot's back, but Padfoot's sensitive nose could pick up the scent of worry and frustration and – even worse – loneliness from him without even trying. This close to Remus's body, he could smell strong emotions as clearly as he could smell the hot chocolate he'd just consumed, or the ink that stained his fingers.

Sunday came around and Sirius didn't miss the worried expressions his friends exchanged as the day wore on. They were all feeling first effects of cabin fever, having been trapped in the dorm for most of the weekend.

In the end, James flung a full deck of exploding snap cards at the wall, resulting in a loud bang and clouds of smoke.

"Bugger this for a lark," he muttered, sending a dark glare at Sirius. "I'm sick of pandering to your needs when you should be damn well trying to make up for everything you've done. I'm going flying before it gets dark." He stood up, grabbed his broomstick from his trunk, and stalked out the room.

"Sorry, Padfoot," Peter said, getting up to follow him. "But he has a point. If I stay here any longer, I swear I'll claw my own eyeballs out just for something to do."

Sirius sat up on Remus's bed and watched them go. He couldn't find it in himself to blame them. He knew he was being difficult. But he couldn't deny the shard stab of hurt he felt when Remus stood up and began pulling books and parchment from his trunk as well.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, when Sirius peered at him over the edge of the bed. "I'm not the one to blame here." Yet he still leaned over to kiss the top of Padfoot's head before he made his way out the room. "I'll bring up some food later. I'm just going to the library."

The room was even more boring with the other three gone, and Sirius began to think he'd rather change back and face the shadows and the possibility of Remus retracting his forgiveness, than suffer there for another hour. He couldn't even read anything as his clumsy paws made it impossible to turn pages.

It was just after dark when Remus returned, and Sirius took one look at him and knew something was wrong. Remus, instead of going to his own bed where Sirius was lying, took one look at Padfoot's lounging form and threw himself onto Sirius's bed, burying his face in the pillow.

Sirius felt a wave of alarm run through him and leapt off Remus's bed and onto his own. The werewolf curled away from him, his face still buried.

Sirius cocked his head to the side, debating what to do. He leant down and pressed his muzzle to the back of Remus's neck.

"Stop it!" Remus rolled over and shoved him away, his extra strength causing Padfoot to slip backwards off the bed with a thump. "Can't you take a hint? I don't  _want_ you here!" His face was twisted up with some unnamed emotion. The only other time Sirius had seen him like this was on Friday evening when Remus had screamed his accusations in Sirius's face. He remembered thinking it was the only time Remus almost looked ugly.

Sirius backed away, lost and uncertain. What on earth had he done? Remus had been fine when he left.

Then Remus looked at Padfoot and his face relaxed a bit, screwing up in a different way, like post-moon Moony did when he was about to cry. "Oh, I'm s-sorry, Padfoot," he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaking. "It's not your fault. It's just – something s-s-someone said to me. It made me think…"

His whole body scrunched up and Sirius could see he was trembling and could smell the hurt and loathing coming from him. For a moment Sirius thought the loathing was aimed at him, then he saw the way Remus pulled roughly on his own hair and dug his nails into his own cheeks and realised that it was aimed at the himself.

And suddenly anger filled him. Bright, burning, and above all  _human_ anger that  _someone_ had dared to say something that made  _his Moony_  feel hatred for himself.  _Screw_ his own stupid problems.  _Someone_ was going to pay.

He felt his magic building in his belly again, hot and fiery like liquid flame. It rushed through his veins and spread just under his skin until he felt as though sparks were spitting and jumping on every part of him. And he slowly melted back to his own human form, skinny and pale and dressed in ghastly hospital pajamas.

Without pausing to get his bearings, he flung himself onto the bed and scooped Remus into his arms, running his hand up and down his back and murmuring, "It's okay, it's okay," while Remus fought weakly against him.

Eventually the the other boy gave up his struggles – which had been half-hearted at best – and seemed to sag against Sirius, burying his face into his shoulder. "It's not okay. It's  _not!"_ he mumbled, his voice muffled.

"Tell me what happened. Tell me who upset you," Sirius begged.

But Remus just shook his head and curled his arms around Sirius's waist, pressing himself further into the embrace. "Thank you for changing back," was all he said. "Thank you, thank you…"

But Sirius knew that Padfoot hadn't been the reason behind Remus's breakdown, and he swore to himself that whoever it had been would pay in  _blood_.


	58. Under the Skin Spots

_"For though, as we have said, all children are heartless, this is not precisely true of teenagers. Teenage hearts are raw and new, fast and fierce, and they do not know their own strength. Neither do they know reason or restraint, and if you want to know the truth, a goodly number of grown-up hearts never learn it."_

(Catherynne M. Valente _-The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There)_

**REMUS:**

Remus couldn't deny that he felt guilty about leaving Padfoot up in the dorm room, but it was the only idea the three of them had been able to come up with to encourage the stubborn animagus to change back into his human form. They hoped that Sirius's boredom at being up there on his own all Sunday evening would encourage him to change back. Patience was not one of Sirius's virtues.

"I wondered if you were going to go through with it," James said, as Remus entered the kitchens. He and Peter were sitting at the kitchen table, and James's broom was leaning against the wall. He had obviously not really been planning on flying, and Remus didn't blame him as it was tipping it down with rain outside. Remus slid into the seat opposite James and huffed out a sigh.

"I almost didn't," Remus informed him. "He just looked so hurt and confused sitting there on my bed watching me with his head cocked to the side."

"I didn't look at him on my way out," James admitted. "I know I would have given in. Whoever it was up there that thought a big fluffy dog would be a good animagus form for him was having a laugh. His puppy-dog eyes were bad enough before. Here, Moony, have a chocolate muffin to cheer you up."

Remus took a muffin from the plate an eager house elf was holding out to him and bit into it. The kitchen was a warm, low-ceilinged room that was dimly lit by the large open fires set into two of the stone walls. It was a hive of activity, and house elves scurried around busily, most of them oblivious to the three boys at the table once they were sure they were being served. Some cooked, while others carrying bags of laundry disappeared in and out of a small, elf-sized door set into the wall beside one of the three massive, antique stoves on which dozens of pots were simmering and bubbling. The air was filled with the comforting, herb-laced scent of the chicken casserole they were serving for tonight's dinner.

"Do you think it'll work?" Peter asked after a while. "Leaving him in there to get bored enough to change back?"

"I really don't know," said Remus. He poured himself a cup of tea from the tray on the table and took a sip. "I can't work out quite why he won't change back. I think he's afraid of something but I don't know what it is. I don't know how serious his determination is."

"You know, Moony," James said, flashing a grin at Remus's glum expression, "You couldn't have chosen a more high maintenance boyfriend if you tried."

"Yeah." Peter shot a mischievous glace at the messy-haired Marauder. "You could have chosen to have a nice simple relationship like James and Evans. You could keep asking someone out, and they could keep hexing you in response. Everyone knows where they stand."

James scowled and flung a cinnamon pastry at Peter's head. It hit his nose and dropped into his lap. "At least I make the effort to ask her out. You've never asked out anyone. And I saw you eyeing up that Ravenclaw in Charms on Thursday."

Peter flushed Gryffindor-scarlet and ducked his head, taking a bite out of the cinnamon pastry and then proceeding to choke on it.

Remus felt his mood lightening for the first time in weeks, and he couldn't help laughing as James hammered Peter on his back until Peter snorted a small piece of pastry out his nose.

"That's really grim, mate," James said, making a face as he edged away from the soggy lump on the table.

"So who is it, Wormtail?" Remus asked, feeling a bit guilty for his laughter when it appeared Peter was not going to recover from his embarrassment any time soon. Peter mumbled something and went even redder. Remus hoped it wasn't actually possible to explode from embarrassment, because if it was, the whole school would be picking bits of Peter out of their chicken casserole at dinner.

"What did you say?"

"Doreen Short," James answered for Peter, an unrepentant grin still lighting his face. "Ravenclaw. Quiet. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Moustache."

"She doesn't have a moustache!" Peter protested, apparently able to find his voice again in order to defend the object of his affection.

"She does, I'm afraid, mate," James said and Peter looked so hurt that James took pity on him. "It's not a bad one," he assured the chubby Marauder. "And it's only visible in well-lit rooms. It's quite attractive really. If I wasn't completely devoted to the wonderful Evans I'd go for her myself."

"I think she's a lovely girl," said Remus, cutting into James's tirade before he dug himself any deeper. "I see her in the library sometimes. She has a really nice smile." He decided not to comment on the moustache that unfortunately  _was_ fairly noticeable, even in slightly dimmer light. Doreen would have been attractive if she wasn't chronically shy and shaved once a day. He also decided not to comment on the fact that he once thought he heard someone gargling mouthwash in the transfiguration section of the library, and it turned out to be her laughing. "And big blue eyes," he added.

Peter's face lit up. "Yeah, that's what drew me to her," he said, ignoring James and looking at Remus eagerly. "She has such big blue eyes and really dark brown hair. It's beautiful."

"So are you going to ask her out?" Remus asked.

Peter looked petrified at the thought. "No way! What if she said no?"

"Evans says no to me all the time," James pointed out. "If it wasn't for Kemp, I'd never have been snogged."

Remus wrinkled his nose. "What happened to poor Bronwyn anyway? She hasn't been hanging round for ages."

James shrugged. "Dunno. Didn't write to her over the summer and she's been ignoring me ever since. Don't care, to be honest. She was a bit boring. And Evans wasn't jealous of her."

"Anyway," Peter interrupted meaningfully, "I don't have as much confidence as you, Prongs. If she said no, I think I'd melt from embarrassment. Besides, why would she want to go out with me when there are loads more good looking boys in school?"

"I think you're good-looking," Remus assured him. It wasn't a lie. Peter wasn't classically handsome or dynamic like James or Sirius, but his face was round and boyish and good-natured, if a little chubby. Besides, Remus wasn't entirely sure there were many of the more good-looking boys who would so willingly overlook the moustache, so Doreen's options were probably as limited as Peter's.

"How would you know?" Peter asked, looking miserable.

Remus exchanged a look with James who rolled his eyes. "Moony's as gay as a maypole," James said. "Of course he'd know."

"No, I'm not," Remus protested, feeling indignant. "You're making it sound like I'm one of those limp-wristed girly-guys. I'll have you know, I could crush every bone in your arm with one hand and not even break a sweat."

"I never said anything of the sort," said James. "Have you ever fancied any girls?"

"Er – no." He hadn't really fancied anyone except Sirius, but he wasn't planning on telling James that. The others saw him as enough of an innocent prude as it was.

"Well then, you  _are_  gay. That doesn't mean you're not manly and tough."

"Good. Because I am."

"We know, Moony.".

"I'm being overly-sensitive, aren't I?" Remus suddenly felt very tired as he spotted the wary looks on James's and Peter's faces.

"It's okay." James reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly.

Remus sighed and stood up, swinging his book bag onto his shoulder. "Listen lads. I think I might really go to the library. There're some books I need to get out for that Charms essay."

"All right," James said, not looking particularly convinced. "Just don't go back too early. Or work too hard either. You know the full moon's on Thursday."

"Like I could forget," Remus muttered as he left the kitchen.

The library was never very full on Sundays. The tables that lined the shelves and the walls were mostly empty – dotted with a few members of two very contrasting groups: Those who were unfailingly diligent and hard-working, even on weekends; and those that had left all their homework to Sunday evening and were now hurrying to catch up.

Remus collected the book he wanted from the Charms section, then retreated to the back of the library where all the desks were empty, and went down on his hands and knees to crawl under one of the empty tables. It was a stupid, childish habit, one that he had been sure he'd cured himself of now that he was almost sixteen, but right now he was worried and tired, and he couldn't resist the lure of the protective hollow beneath the table. It smelled of dust, stone and old, warped wood, and when he closed his eyes a picture of his mother rose in his mind – one that he'd almost forgotten. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her potions lab, her back against her largest cast-iron cauldron. Her elbow rested on her knee, and her hand cupped her chin as she frowned down at the book in front of her in concentration. Her long, tawny hair tumbled forward over her dark eyes until she looked up and spotted Remus. She smiled.

That was where the memory ended, but it created a comforting warmth in Remus's chest, and he felt himself relax a little as a small smile broke out on his own face. He was so caught up in the memory that he didn't sense anyone approaching and jumped in shock when the chair blocking his presence from view was suddenly pulled back and someone flung themselves into it. Before Remus could react, or gather his jumbled senses enough to identify the scent, the feet had moved forward and jabbed him roughly in the side.

Someone swore in surprise, and a face appeared beneath the edge of the table. It was a pale, hook-nosed face framed by limp, greasy hair. As soon as Snape saw who it was, he let out a yelp of horror and stood up, stumbling back from the chair and almost falling over his own legs in the process.

"What the hell are you doing under there, you flea-bitten creature!" he snarled, backing up another step in spite of his strong words. "I thought they had a rule against animals in the library."

 _He's afraid_ , Remus told himself firmly, even though Snape's words cut through him.  _And he has every right to be. You almost killed him._

"Sorry," Remus murmured. He crawled out from under the table and clutched his book bag to his chest. He backed away as well. "I'll j-just go."

"Do you fantasise about it?" Snape asked abruptly, a sneer in his voice that was belied by the fear in his eyes. His hands were large and long-fingered, reminding Remus of albino spiders twisting together against the dark background of his robes.

Remus hesitated. He longed to turn and leave, but he felt that he owed Snape something –  _everything_ – in apology for what he'd put him through. He remembered James briefly mentioning that the Slytherin had wet himself in fear. Even  _James_ hadn't put any mockery in his voice at the revelation and Remus had wondered if it was because he'd been close to doing the same himself.

"About what?" Remus asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"About what it would have been like to tear me apart," Snape said. His voice was harsh and dark. "About what it would have felt like to have my blood on your claws and your teeth. I know you and your friends hate me. I'm not as gullible as Dumbledore. I know you planned that."

Remus's breath hitched and he clutched his bag closer. "N-no, Snape. Sirius was…Sirius made a mistake. It was all a m-m-mistake. And I'm sorry. I'm  _sorry_ for everything that h-happened to you."

" _Sorry?"_ Snape sounded like he wanted to vomit at the taste of the word in his mouth. "You think I'll forgive you just because you stand there looking stupid and pathetic and stuttering like a freak. I  _know_ what you are, and unlike Black, it doesn't turn me on. It  _disgusts_  me and if I had my way I'd tell everyone what you are and see you expelled."

In spite of his best intentions, Remus felt anger flood through him. "Leave Sirius out of this!"

Snape laughed, high and nasal. "Black doesn't need help from me to degrade himself," he said. He looked Remus over, his black eyes full of loathing. "He does it all by himself. Consorting with Gryffindors, betraying his family, indulging his filthy desires for bestiality."

At that, Remus really did stumble. His book bag fell from his arms with a clatter, the books spilling out. He gaped at Snape, his mind refusing to register the words the boy had used. "W-w-what did you say?"

Snape looked delighted at Remus's reaction and he took a few steps closer. "You heard what I said. What else would you call it? Having perverted sexual relations with a dark creature – something that's not even human, let alone female. It's filthy and disgusting."

" _Severus!"_

Remus was so far gone, he didn't even register Lily's voice. He seized Snape by the front of his robes and used his preternatural strength to shove the boy roughly back against one of the tables. Moony rose and howled in his mind as Remus bent over Snape, pressing him so forcefully into the table the other boy's ribs threatened to crack. His anger was hot and fierce and feral. A low, steady growl rumbled deep in his chest.

"Remus! Let go, you're hurting him!  _Let go!"_ There were smaller hands covering his own. Sharp, feminine nails dug into them trying to force him to release his grip. "Remus, please. He's afraid! Let him go, please. For me. You know me – it's Lily, Remus. Let go."

And then Remus smelled it – the sharp, coppery, metallic scent of fear. Dirty orange in colour and filling his senses. Moony rejoiced in it, but his human-self rebelled. He was suddenly aware of the way Snape's heart fluttered and trembled weakly against his clenched fists like a dying bird.

He jerked away from Snape, his breath coming out in harsh gasps from his mouth. "Stay away, stay away," he murmured aloud to Moony, who protested in his head at the loss of prey.

Remus dropped down to his haunches and closed his eyes, shaking violently as he fought against the wolf.

"Remus? Remus?" It took a while for the voice to get through to him. Then he was aware of the small hand on his arm, a blur of red in front of his face. It resolved itself into Lily's worried face. Her bright green eyes watched him with worry and compassion. "It's okay," she said. "He's okay. He just ran away."

"It's not okay," he whispered. "You don't know what I…you don't know."

"But I do," she said, reaching forward to sweep a strand of hair away from his eyes. "I know what you are. I've known for ages. You accidentally let slip to me that your mother was dead once, so I knew you excuses about going to see her were false, and I knew you had another big secret. And then I watched and researched and I realised what you are."

Remus flinched back from her, waiting for the hex or the blows or the harsh words.

"I don't mind, Remus," she said. Her hand moved through his hair again, and the canine in him leant into the caress. "You had every right to attack Severus. What he said to you was unforgivable. You're just as much a human being as I am. Don't take anything he said seriously. You and Black are perfect together."

Remus felt sick when he thought of Snape's words. He thought of his father, and how he had always called him an animal. He thought about the fact that only he had been able to walk through the doorway to the Black's cellar to rescue Sirius because he wasn't human. He was a dark creature.

"Don't you  _dare_ , Remus Lupin!" Lily said sharply.

He jerked his head up and stared at her, his mind still fuzzy from the proximity of Moony in his head. "Don't what?"

"Don't you dare believe anything Severus said. He didn't mean it."

Remus looked at her with tired disbelief and she winced a little and shrugged. "Okay, fine. But it's only because he's afraid. Listen - you can't take anything Severus says seriously. He is a frightened, bitter, jaded boy. He's seen the worst of life - just like you have – and it's changed him in ways that only he, and maybe you, could understand. But unlike you, he didn't come to school to find a sanctuary and a home. He found a cold pit of snakes instead, and is bullied constantly by everyone. Black and Pettigrew, and, much as I hate to admit it, Potter, have been good for you. They've become your life and your family, and your reason for going on. Remember, Remus, that Severus never had that. Don't throw it all away because of what he said."

Remus pressed his lips together and tried to shove down the angry pity that rose in him at Lily's words. He pulled away from her and scrambled to his feet, scrabbling around for his books and stuffing them back into his bag.

"Where are you going?" Lily helped him gather his books together, her forehead creased with worry.

"Up to my dorm. Sirius is there."

"You made up then?" Lily looked unutterably relieved for someone who professed homicidal hatred for the Black heir.

Remus nodded jerkily.

"Good for you, then. I won't ask what happened, because I can already guess is has to do with Black and Severus and your…er…"

"Furry little problem?" Remus supplied, a small smile trying to alight on his face and only just succeeding.

Lily raised an elegant auburn eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. "Is that what you like to call it?"

"James made it up. It sort of stuck. His Dad thought for ages that I owned a badly behaved rabbit."

This time Lily actually laughed. "Yes, well," she sobered. "I won't ask, because I know it's private and should remain between you, but just know that I'm happy you made up. And come and talk to me if you need to. I'm always glad to listen and help."

Remus nodded, slipping past her and out of the library to his way up to the Gryffindor tower. He knew it was too early and they were supposed to be leaving Sirius on his own for a while, but Remus really needed to see him now. He needed to confirm for himself that what he had with Sirius was good and right and not something wicked and wrong.

Padfoot was lying on his bed where Remus had left him, and when Remus entered the room, his ears pricked up, and his plumed tail waved in greeting. Remus felt sick when he thought of Snape's words. Sirius had done this for him – changed for him. Was he gross and perverted? Was taking that love and offering his own in return wrong?

_Indulging his filthy desires for bestiality…_

Remus couldn't look at Sirius. He turned and flung himself onto Sirius's bed instead, hearing Padfoot utter a worried, questioning whine, and then felt the bed shudder and dip as the grim-like dog launched himself onto it. A furry muzzle tipped with a cold, wet nose pressed to the back of his neck, and Remus could smell the hurt and worry that accompanied the gesture.

"Stop it!" He felt angry that his heart and his body conspired against his mind and made him want to fling his arms around Padfoot's neck and cry. Instead, he rolled over and shoved Sirius hard so he slipped backwards off the bed with a thud. "Can't you take a hint? I don't  _want_ you here!" It was a lie – or half a lie. He wanted Sirius and he didn't. He wanted love, but he wanted to not be a freak or dirty or wrong.

Then he saw Padfoot's face which was a picture of canine hurt and confusion. Ears down, tail tucked between his legs, head dipped. His heart twisted up in his chest. "Oh, I'm s-sorry, Padfoot," he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaking. "It's not your fault. It's just – something s-s-someone said to me. It made me think…"

But he couldn't say any more because he thought of Snape and how he smelled of fear and how his heart had fluttered like a dying bird. He thought of how Snape didn't have any Marauders watch out for him. And it was all his fault that Snape was afraid, and he's had every right to lash out at Remus. He was right – Remus  _was_ a dark creature, and it  _was_ gross…

Suddenly Padfoot's formed blurred in front of him, and for a moment, Remus thought he must be crying and blinded by tears, but then the form stretched and thinned and staggered a little at it became a two-legged blur rather than a four-legged blur. The two-legged blur launched itself at Remus.

Remus felt himself being scooped up into a warm embrace, and a hand ran up and down his back, while another one prized his fingers away from his face where they had been gouging at his own skin without him even realising it.

"It's okay," Sirius was murmuring. "It's okay."

Remus struggled against him. This was  _wrong_ , it was  _wrong._ But it also wasn't, because it felt good and it made him happy, and it made Sirius happy, so it  _couldn't be_ wrong, even though he knew it was. He gave up his struggles and sagged against Sirius's warm chest, breathing in that wonderful, familiar smell that he hadn't had access to for so long. He pressed his face into the other boy's shoulder. "It's not okay. It's  _not!"_

"Tell me what happened. Tell me who upset you," Sirius begged.

But Remus couldn't because of Snape and his bitterness and his frightened-bird heart. He shook his head and wound his arms around Sirius's gaunt waist. It really was like hugging a xylophone. Sirius was a mass of walking angles and hard edges. He was knobbly and sunken and wonderful just the same. "Thank you for changing back," Remus said. "Thank you, thank you…"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

When Remus awoke the next day, it was to find himself still wrapped in Sirius's arms. In the bland light of the early November morning sunshine, he felt horribly embarrassed about his overreaction the night before. Had he been feeling himself, he was sure, and not stressed over the worry about Sirius's canine state, or the guilt over Snape's situation, or the pull of the moon that was in four days, he wouldn't have taken Snape's words nearly as seriously as he did. He could only be glad that he hadn't revealed Snape's name in a moment of weakness.

He knew his friends suspected the truth, but without proof, they didn't dare anger Remus further attacking the Slytherin who had already suffered so much from their misguided pranks.

Even as he thought this, he knew he was partly kidding himself. The effect of Snape's words wasn't strong and sharply painful as they had been the night before, but they were lurking there in his subconscious mind like a dull ache. Like an under-the-skin spot, Remus thought, that you couldn't stop from poking to check if it still hurt. And it lingers there for ages looking dull red, and you just know it's going to grow and erupt and burst at a time that you really want to look your best.

He was shaken from his thoughts by Sirius shifting against him, and he tried to pretend he didn't feel something hard against his lower back.

"Alrigh' Moony-bamboony?" Sirius said, the words interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Remus said. "Sorry about last night. I know it was stupid."

He rolled over onto his back and smiled at Sirius, whose face lit with a grin in return. "Rubbish! It's what I'm here for. We'd better get a move on, though. School day, remember?"

Remus groaned and forced himself out of bed for a shower. Afterwards, as he was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror, he caught sight of his own eyes which he was sure looked every-so-slightly more golden than usual due to the approaching full moon. Animal eyes. His stomach clenched.

"I hate under-the-skin spots," he muttered to himself.

"Under-the-skin spots?" Peter moved up to the basin beside him toothbrush in his mouth. He removed it and spat out a mouthful of foam. "I  _like_ under-the-skin spots. They're a million times better than over-the-skin spots."

Although James, Sirius and Remus had their fair share of teenage-spot outbreaks, poor Peter had the raw deal. He was prone to regular outbursts that spread like mountain-ranges, usually across his forehead. He'd grown his sandy hair into a floppy fringe to cover the evidence.

"You should go and ask Madame Pomfrey for some bubotuber potion," Remus suggested.

"She only gives it to the worst cases," Peter said glumly, spitting into the basin. "She says that otherwise it gets ridiculous in a school full of teenagers. She gave it to that Hufflepuff, Martha Delwhitt – you know, the one who used that really strong scourgify on her face to try and get rid of them and ended up taking off three layers of skin?"

Remus shuddered. "That's just wrong."

"Yeah, well." Peter shrugged. "I might be reduced to that. It's okay for you lads, but if I ever want to ask out Doreen, I want to look nice."

"If you feel that bad about it, I'm sure we can nick some for you from the Hospital Wing. Or brew some of our own."

Peter smiled gratefully.

"Nick some what?" Sirius asked, coming up and cheerfully shoving Peter out of the way with the aid of his elbows and hip.

"Bubotuber potion," Peter told him, shoving back. Remus made a quick retreat to the dorm to avoid the flying toothpaste foam.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Remus,_

_We haven't heard from you for ages! How are you doing? I hope everything is going well, and that you boys are behaving yourselves. Neil said that he thinks you know some secret passages into Hogsmeade, and I beg you not to use them. I don't know if you've seen the papers recently, but Voldemort is on the rise again, and there's a rumour going round that he's trying to recruit older Hogwarts students._

_You'll be glad to hear that we have some good news as well. Neil got a promotion at work, and now he works with the same Auror team as Mr Potter. Isn't that wonderful? I am a bit worried about the fact that they are given the more difficult and dangerous raids, but Neil assures me that he will be fine. I have included some extra pocket money for you so you can buy a celebration treat for yourself._

_Write and tell me how things are going._

_All my love,_

_Angela (and Neil)_


	59. Welcome To My Hell

_"Turn your wounds into wisdom."_

Oprah Winfrey

**SIRIUS:**

"I just don't get it!" James complained, flinging himself down on his bed, and rubbing his newly de-antlered head. "Explain it to me again, Padfoot. We only have two days until the next full moon, and I'm absolutely  _determined_ to be able to do it by then."

Sirius groaned and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. They had been at this for four hours now. Add that to the six hours they worked on it yesterday, and he knew that if he wasn't doing this for Remus, he would just throw in the towel at this point. "I've told you a million times. It's all about determination. It's not down to how you pronounce a spell, or exactly how you swish and flick your wand. This is  _wandless_ magic. It's… primal. And internal. You have to  _want_  to change more than you want anything. You have to let your magic fill you up, so it feels like you're going to burn up with the heat of it. You… you have to not care that you might die."

Peter, who was sitting on his bed, crossed his legs and put his chin in his hands. "It just sounds really painful," he said. "I  _try_ to want to change, but I hate being in pain."

"It only hurts the first time." Sirius grinned and winked at the chubby Marauder. "Like sex. You have to get through the painful first time, but all the other times make it worth it." He sobered. "Think how bad it is for Moony. For him it hurts  _every_ time. He feels his bones breaking and his skin stretching and his organs twisting. And he doesn't have a choice. We're doing this for him, lads. This is something that could really change his life."

"I  _am_ trying," said James. "I just get as far as the antlers and fur down my back and then I hit a wall. You've told us all that a million times. What did  _you_ do that we're  _not_ doing?"

"I told you, I…" Sirius stopped. He was just repeating himself. There had to be some way to put his point across to the other two. Soon. He was so tired of being stuck up here in the dorm, he would even have considered being in the library an improvement - especially since Remus was there. He bit his lip as he tried to think of another way to explain himself. "I felt as thought I had nothing to lose," he mumbled. "I thought that you all hated me and I had nothing to lose anymore. I just let my magic take over and do what it wanted. I was… I was trying to burn away the Blackness."

"Blackness?" James's voice was gentle in the way that only the other Marauders knew was possible. He was obviously aware that they were moving onto private, painful ground with this conversation.

"You know," Sirius waved his hand vaguely towards his own chest. "What makes me a Black. What made me betray Remus. I wanted it gone. I wanted to burn it away." He couldn't quite meet their eyes.

"That was really dangerous, mate," Peter said. "Letting your magic go like that. People have  _died_ doing that."

Sirius dipped his head a little more. "I know. And I think if the animagus potion hadn't created a natural channel for it to go down, I  _would_  have. I didn't really care at that point. But that's how much you've got to want it."

There was a long silence in the room, and Sirius wondered if he'd said too much. Remus understood. Remus knew what it was like to feel desperate enough that even death looks like a relief. These two were out of their depth and floundering.

"I don't know if we can do it," James said eventually. Sirius knew it took a lot for James to admit defeat, and felt his heart sink. "This is why there are hardly any animagi around. You have to really  _not care_  what happens to you. How many people can do that?  _Really_  do that, I mean?"

Sirius shook his head, feeling miserable. He knew that Remus would never allow him to accompany the wolf alone. If the others couldn't change, everything would have been for nothing.

The door opened, and Remus came in, his arms full of parchment and books from working in the library with Lily all morning. Over the last few days, since Lily had admitted to knowing Remus's secret, the two of them seemed to have become much closer. If Sirius hadn't known how much Remus cared for him, he would have been jealous. The tawny-haired boy dumped his things on the bed and glanced up at his friends.

"Anything yet?" he asked hopefully. Sirius hated the thought of crushing that hope. Remus so rarely allowed himself to dream of something that might make his life easier, but after Sirius's transformation, he had let himself believe it might be possible.

"Not yet," Sirius said, and tried to swallow around the bruised feeling in his throat at the quiet resignation in Remus's eyes that was slowly beginning to replace the hope. If only he could make the others  _long_ to help Remus as much as he did. If only he could make them  _see_ just how bad it was so that they would willingly give up everything to help him. If only they could  _see_ …

Sirius jerked his head up so suddenly he almost gave himself whiplash. "I've got it!"

He leapt off his bed, tripped over his scarlet bed-curtains and skidded over to his trunk. He rummaged round in it, yanking out clothes, books, parchment and other detritus until he reached what he had been looking for, wrapped in a green velvet bag at the bottom corner of his trunk. He pulled it out and tipped the object out of the bag and into his hand. It was just a bit bigger than a wine goblet, but roughly the same shape. It was carved out of black Egyptian alabaster, and riddled with dozens of tiny, intricate runes around the rim and sides.

James made a face. "That's the ugliest looking goblet I've ever seen."

"My Uncle Alphard gave it to me last Christmas," Sirius told them. "I've never used it. I didn't even want to keep it, to be honest, because it's a Black family heirloom." He turned it upside-down to show them the Black family crest carved into the bottom. "But Uncle Alphard has always been cool to me, so I did. It's similar to a pensieve – called an occusieve. Only it doesn't allow you to store memories in the same way. It makes a copy of a single memory, and allows you to view it. You can only view the copy once before it disappears. The actual memory remains in your head, and if you want to see it again, you have to make a new copy. It's sometimes used in court cases for witnesses."

James leaned forward and took the occusieve from Sirius's hands and turned it over in his own. "It's cool, but how's it going to help us? Are you going to show us a memory of you changing? Because you've changed in front of us loads of times and it hasn't helped."

Sirius shook his head. "No. I thought you could see a memory of  _Moony_ changing."

"What?" Remus yelped and shook his head violently. "Oh no. No, no, no. I'm never letting  _any_ of you see that. Even if you all manage to become animagi, you're standing outside the room while I change. It's gross and bloody and disgusting. I'm  _never_ letting any of you see me like that."

"But don't you see!" Sirius reached out and caught Remus's flailing hands, tugging the werewolf down onto the bed beside him and staring at him pleadingly. "They need to  _see_ it to want to change that much. If you really want them to change, this is the only thing left to do." Sirius closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Remus's shoulder. "The truth is, Moony, I don't think they can ever do it without that kind of incentive. I wouldn't ask this of you otherwise."

He could  _feel_ the tension humming in Remus's shoulders, and felt the way the other boy's hands tightened painfully around his own.

"I-it's gross," Remus whispered. "It's gross and disturbing and dark and horrible. If you all see it, you'll not want to be near me anymore."

"That's  _not_ true." Surprisingly, it was Peter who spoke. He was usually the quietest Marauder, and rarely spoke up first, particularly in situations as serious as this. Sirius felt an strong rush of affection and gratitude towards him. "We would  _never_ not want to be your friends, Moony," Peter continued. "Not even if you made us sit and watch you peeling off your own skin."

"That's exactly what it will be like!" Remus said, his voice cracking with distress. "That's exactly how graphic and bloody it's going to be."

"I really do think this is the only way it's ever going to work, Moony." Sirius lifted his head to look Remus in the eyes. "It's the only thing left I can think of."

Remus remained still for a long time, tiny tremors of tension running up and down his spine. Sirius could feel them against his own body. The others didn't speak, knowing this was a decision that Remus had to make on his own. Eventually, Remus pulled away and slowly took out his wand. His face – already pale with the approaching moon – looked gaunt and lined, but the hand he raised to pull his wand out of his pocket was steady. For the first time Sirius thought 'young man' rather than 'boy' as he looked at him. It was daunting. When had they all started growing up?

"All right," Remus said, his voice tired and grim. "What do I do?"

It was a mark of how desperate he was that he did not put up any more of a fight.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"You sure you're not going to come, Moony?" James asked, as he, Sirius and Peter crowded round the shimmering silver memory in the occusieve. It looked a little different to pensieve memories; less solid and more smoky.

Remus shook his head, perched on the edge of Sirius's bed with his hands clasped so tightly Sirius worried that the sharp points of his knuckles would break through his skin. "N-no. I live through that enough already, thanks."

"Right, you two," James said, turning back, his face tense. "Wands at the ready. On the count of three. One… two…  _three!"_

Sirius reached out and touched his wand to the pearly surface of the memory and felt himself being sucked in. His stomach lurched and his brain swam. He shut his eyes and waited for the sensation of movement to stop. Then he slowly opened them again.

He was standing in the bedroom of the Shrieking Shack. He was surrounded by the familiar battered wood-grey walls, the clawed and splattered rickety furniture, the tatty, sagging bed. The only thing that was missing was the smell. He was used to the sharp, metallic scent of blood, fear and wolf that usually pervaded the room. He had forgotten that occusieve memories were only visual and auditory.

Lying curled in the centre of the bed was Remus. He had been alone, so he hadn't bothered to cover his nakedness, even though he was shivering in the cold November air. Although he wasn't as thin as Sirius currently was, there was no spare fat on him anywhere. His elbows, knees, ankles and wrists were pointed and pressed against his scarred skin from the inside. He was curled in on himself, his skinny arms wrapped around his legs, and Sirius could see every one of the knobbly vertebrae of his curved spine. The whipcord tendons and muscles that wrapped his slim body were all tensed and vibrating with the coming moon.

"This was moon before last, wasn't it?" James whispered, though the memory-Remus would not have been able to hear. His voice was subdued and nervous.

"Yeah," Sirius answered. He carefully approached the bed, reaching out to touch Remus's shoulder, when the smaller boy's whole body suddenly rocked with a violent spasm. Sirius jumped back as Remus curled tighter, and glanced towards the window. The moon was rising.

Another spasm shook Remus's body, and he suddenly uncurled as quickly and violently as a spring, snapping out flat onto his back. His face was contorted with pain, but he pressed his lips tightly together, and his fists clenched. A single shaft of moonlight speared through the window and as it touched Remus's body, he lost the war against the scream and it ripped from his throat.

Sirius stumbled back again, almost bashing into James, who was standing behind him with Peter, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of them.

Remus's scream seemed to fill the room, sucking up all other sound. It was raw and agonised, and went on and on, as though Remus didn't need to stop for breath. His spine bowed up in a sharp arch so only his shoulders and hips touched the bed and the scream became shriller. Suddenly, there was a sharp popping sound and Sirius let out a shriek of his own as he saw Remus's wrist crack and break, melding further into his forearm, his hand elongating, his fingers melting back into his expanding palm. His skin stretched tight and in some places tore open as it reached the limit of its elasticity.

There were more cracks and popping sounds as Remus's shoulders and hips dislocated, his spine lengthened to accommodate a tail, his knees and ankles repositioned themselves. All the while he screamed and screamed, the sound wet, as though the fragile skin of his throat tore at the roughness of the noise, and bled into his mouth – that mouth that now stretched open further and further until there were sharp snapping pops as it lengthened, and blood trickled down the newly-forming muzzle as sharper, bigger teeth cut through the blackening gums.

Sirius reached out blindly, wanting to stop the process, wanting to do anything to anything to stop the pain, but his hands passed through the writhing body on the bed, whose skin was twitching and shivering as sharp pinpricks of fur sprouted all over Remus's wolf-like body.

Sirius was choking, shouting, sobbing, too frightened and horrified to feel embarrassed or ashamed. His mouth was filled with saliva as he fought down the urge to retch, a battle that either Peter or James behind him seemed to have lost if the distant noises were any indication.

It was the longest and most painful thing Sirius had ever lived through. It seemed like years rather than minutes before the screams turned to howls, and then shuddered away as a wolf lay panting and whimpering with pain on the bed. In any other circumstances, Sirius would have called him a beautiful animal. Moony was covered with thick, tawny-coloured fur, his jaw powerful, his tufted tail plumed.

Sirius stumbled back as the wolf suddenly raised his head and sniffed the air, his muscles tense and vibrating. He pressed his nose to the mattress, then in a graceful bound, leapt off the bed and followed the scent to the door and around the room. Moony was smelling Remus's human self, Sirius thought, and as the wolf became more agitated and frantic, he realised that the scent was driving him crazy with bloodlust.

The canine within Sirius recognised the meaning of the growls and whines as Moony began to shred and rip the furniture in fury and frustration.  _Want, blood, man, hungry, Moony eat, want, want blood, bloodbloodblood hot, hungry bloodbloodblood…_

And that was when he started tearing at himself. Sirius watched in horror as the claws and teeth ripped at Moony's own flesh, only the thick fur preventing every one of the tears becoming a fatal wound. The wolf lapped hungrily at the blood, whimpering in pain and hunger, and the frustration of this prison.

"Stop it, Moony!" Sirius screamed at him, knowing he couldn't hear him. "Please! Stop! Stop!  _Stop!_ " His hands passed ineffectively through the gnawing jaws and pooling blood. " _Please stop!_ "

He was only dimly aware of James and Peter screaming, too, and of a hand gripping his arm, trying to pull him away. There was a blur of sensation, and suddenly he was standing in sunlight again, and the wood-and-boy-and-socks smell of the dormitory. Sirius looked up blindly through streaming eyes to see Remus's gaunt, fear-filled face staring at him.

He launched himself at the bed, scooped the shocked boy up into his arms and began planting wet, teary kisses all over his neck and cheeks and hair. He wanted to say; "I will  _never_  let that happen again. I will  _never_ let you be alone again. Not ever. I don't care what I have to do. I love you and you will  _never_ suffer to that extent again." All he actually managed to do was repeat the words  _"Never, never, never, never…"_ over and over again.

"Sirius!  _Sirius!"_

Someone jerked his head back by his hair, and Sirius looked up into the blurry, upside-down face of James, which he was glad to see was as tear-stained as his own. "Let Moony breathe, mate."

Sirius glanced down to see Remus wide-eyed and gasping, prevented from breathing by Sirius's death-grip around his chest. "Sorry, Moony! Sorry, sorry!" He loosened his grip, and Remus managed the smallest smile, before curling forwards against Sirius's chest and pressing his face into his neck.

"I thought you would be grossed out," he mumbled.

" _Not_ grossed out," James said, pressing a hand to Remus's back.

"Not ever," Peter said, coming over and touching Remus's shoulder as well. His chubby hand was shaking with shock, and it was the first time Sirius had ever seen someone who really  _did_ look grey-faced. There was the sharp scent of vomit on his breath.

"Moony," James said. "Moony watch this."

Sirius, Remus and Peter looked up as James backed away a bit and screwed up his face in concentration. They could feel the powerful magical build-up coming from him, growing and getting hotter and hotter. James's skin flushed and his eyes grew glassy. Antlers sprouted from his head and he stumbled a bit. Then his form seemed to blur, as though they were looked at him through distorted glass, and when it sharpened again, it was much, much larger, and four-legged.

"Prongs," Sirius breathed in awe, staring at his transformed friend. The stag that stood before them was truly impressive. His red-brown fur was smooth and fine, the shape of the powerful muscles clear beneath it. The antlers were branched and covered in soft velvet. Prongs's nose and the tip of his muzzle were heart-shaped black, and his hazel eyes were proud and protective. He looked completely out of place in the Marauders's messy dorm.

"You did it." Sirius glanced at Remus, who until now had had the only dry eyes in the room. Tears streamed down his cheeks in a mixture of relief, awe and – though being a teenage boy, he would never admit it – love.

"Look at me, too," Peter said, his round face set and uncharacteristically determined. The expression he then wore made him look chronically constipated. His fists clenched and unclenched, his shoulders hunched, every muscle in his body vibrated. It took a lot longer before his magic built up to a degree that nearly matched Prongs's. Sirius was almost beginning to wonder if it was ever going to happen before Peter's form also blurred and he actually began to  _shrink_ in front of their eyes.

Sirius wanted to yell, "You're  _doing it_ , Wormtail!" but restrained himself so he wouldn't break Peter's concentration. It was a  _very_ long and painful process, and Sirius felt himself becoming light-headed from holding his breath, but finally, the blur began to sharpen on a very, very small form that crouched on the floor in front of them.

Sirius got a brief glimpse of a sleek-furred, round-eared little brown rat, before it looked up, caught a glimpse of two giant humans and a stag hovering over it, and gave a squeak of instinctive terror before scuttling under the James's bed.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"You know," Peter said, "what with all the stuff we've had going on this year, we've hardly pulled any proper pranks at all. Everyone must think we're going soft."

It was later that evening, and the Marauders were lounging in front of the common room fire, armed with filched butterbeers and banoffee pie from the kitchens in celebration of their animagus success. They were all buzzing with suppressed energy – unable to celebrate properly because of how illegal their new skills were, but still unable to keep the rather ridiculous grins off their faces. Sirius wondered if they looked as drunk on success as he felt. Even Remus was laughing, and usually this close to the full moon, he was retiring and distant.

"We should plan a big one for Christmas," James suggested. "A whole school one. We haven't done one of those for ages. We can do it the day before everyone leaves or something."

"Is everyone leaving?" Remus asked, looking up from where he was lying on the hearthrug and polishing off his banoffee pie. "Are we all going home for Christmas?"

"I'm not," Sirius said immediately. "But James said I can go over to his for the holidays."

"My parents really want me home this year," said Peter. He leaned forward in the armchair to snag another bottle of butterbeer. "They said you guys can come over for a week or something over the holidays if you like. Just know that all my dreadful Muggle cousins will be hanging round as well."

"Muggles?" Sirius sat up in excitement. Ever since their trip into Muggle London, Sirius had been fascinated by them. He still drooled longingly over the motorcycle magazines he had Peter buy him over the summer, and he listened to Remus's tape-player as often as Remus did himself. He didn't care how much his friends mocked him. It was amazing what the Muggles managed to do without magic.

"No pranking Muggles, Padfoot," Remus said sternly. "It's unsporting if they can't fight back."

"You always think the worst of me, Moony. I wasn't planning on  _pranking_ them."

"Of course you weren't, Black. You were planning on having a lovely little teaparty with them." Sirius turned to see Lily standing behind the sofa he and James were sitting on, her arms crossed, and an exasperated expression on her face.

"Evans!" James ran a hand through his hair and grinned at her wolfishly. "Would you care for a date on the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas?"

"In your dreams, Potter. Or not, actually. That thought alone in too disturbing to sit comfortably in my head."

"I resent the fact that you and Moony would assume I would prank innocent Muggles," Sirius butted in, indignant.

"Well, if I turn out to be wrong, I'll apologise," said Remus, obviously trying to look contrite rather than sceptical, "and will do something to make it up to you."

Sirius cheered up at that thought. "You could be my slave for a day. And let me copy your Astronomy homework. I can't be bothered to work out the orbits of all Jupiter's moons on my own. Ooh, and chocolate. Chocolate's always good."

"You're disgusting, Black," Lily said. "I don't know what Remus sees in you. If you were my boyfriend I'd poison your morning pumpkin juice."

"If you were my girlfriend, I'd drink it."

"Hey!" Lily and James chorused together, glaring daggers at Sirius, who held up his hands in surrender.

"I'm just  _saying…_ "

"Did you want something, Lily?" Remus interrupted. "Aside from the pleasure of insulting Sirius, I mean?" He spoke in a deliberately quiet voice and Sirius was suddenly aware of the number of people in the common room who had turned to watch for the interesting display of hexes that nearly always occurred when James and Lily were within a few feet of each other.

"I was just seeing if you were ready to head back to the library. We promised those fourth years we'd help them with the theory for the summoning charm."

" _Moony._ " Sirius scowled at Lily, annoyed that she was taking up so much of Remus's time, and even more annoyed that this, in turn, caused his voice to take on that horrible whiny tone. "You never said you were going to desert us in our hour of victory."

"Oh God, what have you done now?" Lily turned to frown at Remus.

Sirius has expected Remus to deny everything, but instead, the werewolf lived up to his Marauder colours and treated Lily to a cheeky grin that made Sirius's heart skip a beat. "If we tell you, it'd ruin the surprise come Christmas."

"You lot are planning another one of your ridiculous Christmas pranks?" Lily asked incredulously. "Please tell me I'm wrong and you've outgrown that childishness."

"You're wrong and we've outgrown that childishness," all four of the Marauders parroted in dull monotones. Sirius and James had raised their right hands in solemn salutes.

Lily made a frustrated noise that could only be described as, " _ERRRORRRRGH!_ " and pressed her closed fists to her temples. "Let's just go, Remus, before I commit Maraudercide." She turned and strode towards the portrait hole.

"Sorry," Remus said quietly to his friends, as he dragged himself to his feet, looking full-moon tired for the first time that evening. "But I'll have a look round for prank ideas while I'm there." He smiled at James and Peter, and reached out to ruffle Sirius's hair, his hand lingering just a bit longer than was normal – the only intimate contact he could safely get away with in the packed common room without giving them away.

"Later, Moony," Sirius murmured, as Remus headed out after Lily.

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"Is Pomfrey gone, Wormtail?" James hissed, squinting through the darkness at the dark silhouette of the Womping Willow.

There was a rustling noise, a squeak, and then a little brown rat stood up on its hind legs in the long grass and nodded to the spot where Sirius and James were huddled under the invisibility cloak against the castle wall.

"Let's go then."

They hurried through the grass towards the Whomping Willow and stopped a few feet away from its flailing branches.

"Run as fast as you can and bang the knot with your nose," Sirius ordered Peter, nudging Wormtail with his toe. Rats can't really pull off insulted expressions, but if they could, Peter would have been giving Sirius one at the indignity. He gave a huffy squeak, hesitated, then dashed towards the trunk of the tree, almost invisible against the grass. He was so little, the tree didn't even register his presence, and continued to sway, rather than pummel the tiny animal to the ground.

Wormtail hit the knot with his nose and the branches froze.

"Way to go, mate," James whispered, as he and Sirius hurried towards the entrance of the tunnel.

Peter changed back and grinned at them. "Piece of cake." He sobered. "But that was the easy part. I just hope this works."

"'Course it will. We're the Marauders," Sirius assured him, patting Peter on the back in an effort to rid him of his worried expression. "Come on now."

They hurried up the tunnel and emerged through the newly-repaired trapdoor and into the hall of the Shrieking Shack. They stared up the gloomy staircase, and Sirius felt his nose assaulted with the familiar smell of wood-rot, blood and wolf.

"Come on," James muttered, squaring his shoulders. "We're  _not_ backing out now."

He led the way up the staircase and into the bedroom at the top.

"Alright lads." Remus stood with his back to them staring out the window. He was completely naked, but didn't appear to be ashamed as he usually would. He didn't turn around as they entered, and Sirius tried to ignore the way his heart and stomach lurched with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Last chance to back out," Remus added. "The moon is rising."

"Never!" Sirius clenched his fists at his sides, setting his jaw with determination.

Remus' grin was vicious as he turned round to look at them. He no longer looked sweet-faced and scholarly. He looked utterly feral. His large eyes glowed golden and reflected the light, his teeth were just too sharp to be entirely human. His whole body hummed with animal-tension, the muscles and tendons twitching as they prepared to change. "Then welcome to my hell."

A shaft of moonlight slanted through the window and he flung back his head and screamed.


	60. The Mind of Moony

_"I woke up one morning thinking about wolves and realized that wolf packs function as families. Everyone has a role, and if you act within the parameters of your role, the whole pack succeeds, and when that falls apart, so does the pack."_

Jodi Picoult

**REMUS:**

Moony lay on his side, panting. As the moon rose higher, his pain started to fade, and his other senses became sharper. He was in  _prison-cage-trap_  as he always was on nights like this. Always here, with moon pulling on his bones and smell of  _man-blood-food_  lingering in the air.

But tonight there were new smells. Still hints of  _man-blood-food,_  but there were also three different scents that almost overpowered it. There was something strange about them. They smelled a little like  _man-blood-food_ , but mostly like other warm, walking things that, some part of Moony's mind knew, came from the place outside  _prison-cage-trap_  – that place where the moon was always tugging him to go.

Moony shook off the last remnants of the pain, his skin twitching, and deep-hurt in his new bones. He turned to look at the warm, walking things that were crowded against the wall. They looked at him with  _fear-run-prey_  in their eyes and their scent, and Moony half wanted to chase them. But he didn't because there were other smells coming from them that became clearer as Moony took a step closer. They smelled  _familiar_  and he didn't know why. There had never been other warm, walking things in here before.

Maybe it was to do with the other part of him – the part that lived in the back of his mind and whispered man-words in his head, and cried and hurt all the time like a not-wolf-thing. Strangely, the not-wolf-thing wasn't crying tonight. It was whispering in his head over and over again. And for once, it was not whispering man-words, but wolf-words. Or rather one wolf-word, over and over again.  _"Pack, pack, pack, pack…"_

Moony was confused. He looked at the warm, walking things, where they huddled against the wall, and paced up and down in front of them in agitation. Two of them were big things. One was supple and woodsy. It smelled like it should be  _run-prey-grass-eater_ , but Moony knew it couldn't be, because it was standing quite happily next to the other big thing that definitely smelled more like a wolf.

" _Dog,"_ the voice in his mind supplied, briefly breaking off its chant of,  _"Pack, pack, pack, pack"_.

The smallest thing was on the grass-eater's head, settled between the two tree-arms growing out from between its ears. It had a scent like the small, scuttling, squeaking things that Moony sometimes smelled traces of in this  _prison-cage-trap._

" _Pack. Moony pack. Pack."_ the whisper in his head kept saying.

Moony continued to pace, shaking his head and eyeing the huddling things uncertainly.  _"Pack?"_ he repeated, eyeing the one called Dog. He could understand that this one might be pack, but the other two smelled too strange.

The word seemed to startle the dog-thing and it tossed its head and wagged its tail hopefully.  _"Yes, pack!"_ It said excitedly.  _"Us Moony pack!"_ It took a step forward and Moony tensed and growled. It froze and tilted its head.  _"Us pack, Moony."_

The strange thing was, now that the word was in his head, it seemed right. Something in Moony was trembling with excitement, making his ears prick up and his muscles twitch, because these warm things  _did_ feel familiar. They  _did_ feel like pack.

" _Pack?"_ Moony said again. This one smelled even more familiar than the other two. It smelled of  _warm-wolf-closeness-want_. Moony's instincts knew that smell and his ears flicked forward in sudden eagerness.  _"Mate?"_

The dog looked surprised, but it huffed an odd, playful noise and moved its head up and down.  _"Yes - mate."_ It took a step closer and Moony tensed again, but didn't growl. It took another step, invading Moony's personal space. He took a snap at its muzzle and it jerked its head away, and before Moony could react, it swiped his shoulder with its paw. Moony was still weak and shaky from  _pain-hurt-moon-coming_ , and felt himself bowled off his feet. Before he could scramble up again, there was a massive black paw resting on his ribcage and a low, rumbling growl above him that clearly stated  _"Me big one. Me alpha."_

Moony knew he was stronger than this dog. He knew he could hurt it, and he took a snap at its lowered head. It jerked its head away and growled more fiercely.  _"ME ALPHA!"_ It put another paw on Moony's body and Moony felt his ribs bend and creak under the strain. He may have been stronger, but this dog was much bigger, and he knew if it leant forward there would be more  _pain-hurt-ache_. Besides, he didn't want to make it feel  _pain-hurt-ache_. It smelled  _warm-mate-protect_ , and even though Moony's ribs were straining and hurting under the weight of its upper body, it bent its head and huffed softly at his ear.  _"Mate. Padfoot mate. My pack."_

" _Pack…mate…"_ the voice in his head agreed. _"Submit. Padfoot Alpha."_

" _MOONY Alpha!"_ Moony growled back indignantly, struggling a little against the hold on him.

" _No! PADFOOT Alpha!"_ The voice was much clearer than it usually was and Moony was cross. This was  _his_ body.

Padfoot leaned forward and licked his nose, the gesture full of  _care-protect-want._ Moony felt himself sag in defeat as his own body was flooded with answering emotions of  _care-want-mine_. He tilted his head back in submission, and Padfoot leant forward, opening his jaws over Moony's exposed throat; not breaking the skin, but just holding him there in a sign of dominance.

Then he stepped back, taking his weight off of Moony's body, and tilted his head to the side, watching Moony uncertainly as he lay, gasping for breath.

Moony slowly dragged himself to his feet, his ribs smarting. He shook himself gently, then moved towards Padfoot one careful step at a time. Padfoot stood still and allowed him to approach. Moony sniffed his nose, receiving a lick on his own for the trouble, then moved down Padfoot's side and sniffed behind him. He sneezed when Padfoot's plumed tail brushed his sensitive nose.  _Pack-mate-mine._

A movement near the wall caught his attention. The other two walking things - " _Pack_ ," the voice reminded him - were watching him. The big one tossed its head with a look in its eye that Moony didn't know. It was almost like  _playful-fun_ , but quieter.

" _Prongs,"_  Padfoot said, looking towards the other two as well.  _" Wormtail. Moony, Padfoot pack. Moony no hurt!"_

" _Moony no hurt,"_ Moony repeated, giving Padfoot a meek, sideways glance as his ribs twinged again.

The one Padfoot called Prongs stepped closer. It was slow and careful, but not afraid. Moony watched suspiciously as it came to a stop in front of him. It was also very big. Even bigger than Padfoot. It lowered its head to Moony and he sniffed it. Yes, there it was. The smell of pack. He knew this one was  _care-protect-packmate_  as well, and he felt his tail wag in response. He licked its delicate nose playfully and it jerked its head back looking insulted. Moony yipped and lolled his tongue in a grin, pretending to snap with his teeth at one velvety ear.

The tiny one squeaked and clung on in alarm when Prongs's head moved out the way. Moony stretched his head up to huff in its scent. It trembled, but didn't run away. Yes, this one was pack, too, though why it was so small, Moony didn't know. Was it a runt? He was about to lick it, when there was a sharp nip on his hindquarters. He jerked around and snapped back at Padfoot, a flare of wolf-anger and familiar bloodlust rising in him.

" _No lick Wormtail,"_ Padfoot ordered. Then he dipped his front half down, his rump high, tail wagging.  _"Play!"_

Moony hesitated, feeling the bloodlust fade a little under Padfoot's gaze. Slowly, uncertainly, he bowed down his own front half, his tail wagging a little in imitation of the dog's. He had never had anyone to play with, and wasn't entirely sure what to do. Padfoot didn't seem to mind. He dashed forward and butted Moony's side, then skittered away again on big clumsy paws, barking at Moony to  _chase-play-run._ There wasn't much room in here, but Moony obeyed with an excited yip, batting Padfoot over with a powerful sweep of his own paw, then running away to duck behind Prongs who whickered in amusement and lowered his tree-arms mock-threateningly at Padfoot. While Wormtail hung on, squeaking delightedly like a new-born cub.

It was wonderful. Moony was not  _alone-hurt-bloodlust_  anymore. He was  _pack-play-fun_ instead. With his pack here, it not longer felt like  _prison-trapped-cage_ , but more like  _den-sleep-place._ The only howling Moony did that night was in play. And he could feel his new pack with him the whole time, until the moment when  _moon-gone-pain-hurt_  came and he forgot everything in a rush of agony and cracking bones.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

When Remus woke from his childlike state, it was early Friday evening. Usually, he found himself alone, or in the company Madame Pomfrey, and then made his way down to find the others in the common room after he'd dressed.

Today he woke to a room full of Marauders who, by the sound of it, were trying desperately hard to have a mini celebration party in whispers to avoid disturbing him. What resulted was a commotion that involved a lot of shushing, sniggering, elbowing, muffled "Ows!" and regular declarations of Marauderish genius.

Without opening his eyes, Remus tensed his muscles and shifted the tiniest amount, trying to discern his injuries. There was the bone-deep ache of the transformation itself, with the shallow wounds on the most vulnerable areas of knees, elbows and shoulders where the skin tended to tear under the pressure of too much stretching. There was also a throbbing, bruising ache on the right side of his ribcage, as though something big had sat on him.

For the first time since becoming a werewolf, Remus had a clear flash of full-moon memory that didn't involve a mouthful of blood, or a clawed paw raking at flesh. It was a brief, but vivid grey-and-white, scent-tinted image of a large black dog's head peering down at him, and a painful pressure on his ribcage. Oddly, the vision radiated surrender, comfort and belonging, rather that a desire to rip the dog's throat out.

For the first time in ten years, Remus realised, he had woken up after a full moon with only the aching pain of the change and the bruise on his chest. No deep gashes and bites, no claw-marks, no new scars…

 _Well colour me grey and call me a flobber worm,_ Remus thought in amazement.  _They actually did it._ And what filled him then was such a rush of warm affection that his whole body shivered.

"Moony?"

Of course, Sirius had been keeping an eye on him, although Remus would have sworn he had been completely immersed in attempting to be quiet as he, James and Peter toasted their own brilliance with pumpkin juice. A hand touched his forehead and fingers dipped into his hair, gently disentangling the strands as they brushed through. He opened his eyes and looked up into matching pools of rain-cloud grey.

"Are you with us, or are you still Mini-Moony?"

Remus smiled, aware that it probably looked as sleepy and content as he felt. "I have the best mates  _ever_ ," he murmured, aware that his throat – though still sore from his screaming during the transformation – was not nearly as torn-up as it usually was are a full night of growling and howling. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"I dunno," Sirius said. "It must have been something awesome though, for you to have got people as brilliant as us." He moved to sit on the bed, and guided Remus's head away from his pillow and into his lap, leaning down to drop a kiss onto his forehead, and ignoring the way James and Peter groaned and mimed shielding their poor eyes.

"Oh, you love it really," Remus told them.

"I don't know what you mean," James grumbled. "If I was any more open-minded, my brain would fall out." But he smiled to show that he was teasing. Sometimes Remus needed reminding, and his friends knew that.

" _I can see cleeeearly now my braaaain has gone!_ " Sirius sang unhelpfully.

"How are you feeling, Moony?" Peter spoke loudly, determined to override Sirius's singing. Sirius had many talents, and although he appreciated music, singing wasn't one of them. "You would have loved to see Madame Pomfrey's expression when she saw you this morning. She couldn't understand why she wasn't scraping you off the walls with a spatula like she usually does. We explained it away by saying you were happy because you'd made up with Sirius."

"I feel…the best I've felt for ten years. And it's all because of you three." Remus wished he could explain more clearly how much it meant to him, but he had never been good at freely expressing his emotions and his mind stumbled, groping for the right way to explain himself. Sirius, James and Peter grinned back at him – cocky, mischievous, boyish, affectionate - and he felt himself relax as he saw that he didn't need to find the words. They heard them anyway.

"Sorry about your ribs," Sirius said. "But I thought it would be better to have Padfoot dominant, 'cause it'll make controlling Moony easier if he gets crazy. There were a few times when we were playing when he got a bit violent."

"Sorry," Remus said, guilt welling up.

"Not a problem," James said firmly. "Nothing the mutt and I couldn't handle."

"You kept trying to lick me," Peter added. "Do you know what it's like to be licked by a tongue that it almost the same size as you?"

Remus tried to look sorry, but couldn't help snickering.

"Moony wanted to go out," said James, picking up a chocolate frog off Remus's bed cover and unwrapping it. "He kept trying to herd us outside. We're thinking of letting him out next moon and into the forest. Sirius and I could keep you under control between us."

Remus's eyes widened in panic. "No! NO! Don't you  _dare_! Do you know what would  _happen_ if I attacked someone?"

"We wouldn't let you attack someone, Moony," Sirius assured him. "But let's argue about it later. There's chocolate to eat, and toasting to be done. This, gentlemen, was the first in a long line of adventures by Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Led, of course, by me, who – being the Alpha – is obviously the most brilliant of all. We should come up with a suitable ceremony where you all have to bow down to my greatness at regular points during the day. And maybe there can be a song."

"Oh, Merlin, please not a song," Peter begged. "Especially if you're going to sing it."

"I'll have you know, I have the voice of an undercover opera singer."

"Very undercover," Remus murmured, and Sirius scowled down at him.

"For that, Remus Lupin, I will write a song just for you. A song in four verses, about the legendary love of the great Messrs Moony and Padfoot. It will be disgustingly soppy, and you'll have to like it anyway, because I will have written it."

"You're a right pompous twerp, sometimes, Padfoot," James said, then let out an unmanly shriek and began choking when Sirius levitated a Bertie Bott's every flavour bean up his nose.

Remus tried not to notice the wickedly inventive gleam that filled Sirius's eyes as he watched the bean explode back out of James's nose and ping off the stone basin in the corner of Remus's hospital room.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

He was right to have worried. Four days later, Remus made his way down to breakfast last of all his friends to discover Peter drinking a suspiciously lime-green coloured concoction through a straw as part of his usual breakfast.

"What's that, Pete?" Remus asked, dropping down into the seat between Sirius and Lily (who was looking like she rather regretted her choice of seat that morning, and inched away with hand covering her plate defensively). He carefully spooned porridge from the silver bowl in front of him without touching the sides.

"S'Potion," Peter told him around the straw. "Bubotuber potion. To stop my spots. Sirius made it for me. He stole the ingredients from the hospital wing like he said he would."

Remus sat up in alarm, his morning doziness disappearing. "Don't drink it, Wormtail! That's not Bubotuber potion. It's green! It's supposed to be very pale yellow."

Peter stopped drinking and eyed the potion in alarm, before sending a horrified look at Sirius.

"Don't listen to Moony, mate," Sirius assured him. "This is the Padfoot version. Much more fun. It really works. Go on – feel for yourself."

Peter raised shaky hands to his face while James tried to muffle his laughter in his robe sleeve. The chubby Marauder pushed back his fringe and felt around on his forehead for the mountain-range of spots that he'd been complaining about for the last two weeks. Remus's own mouth dropped open when he realised that Peter's usually red and blemished skin was pale and smooth.

"How did you get it to work that fast?" he asked Sirius in amazement. "Bubotuber potion takes at least an hour or two to take hold."

Sirius shrugged, looking pleased and exchanging a smug look with James. "Prongs and I added some changes to the potion. This must be a positive side effect."

" _What_?" Lily butted in, looking horrified. "You can't just go around shoving random ingredients into potions, you idiots! You could  _poison_  him!"

"They weren't  _random_ , my beautiful Evans," James assured her, sending her what he obviously considered to be a winning smile. "Sirius and I knew exactly what we wanted it to do. Aside from clearing up Pete's spots so he can ask out that Ravenclaw bint with the moustache, that is."

"She does  _not_ have a moustache!" Peter injected, his face warring between gratefulness at his spot-free appearance, apprehension about the changes Sirius and James had made to the potion, and indignation on behalf of his crush.

Remus groaned and picked up the cream jug to pour on his porridge. "It's okay, Lily," Remus told her. "They wouldn't hurt Pete. They know what they're doing with potions." He frowned at the two dark-haired Marauders. "What changes did you make? And why didn't you tell me?"

"One – because you're completely rubbish at potions," James told him.

"And two – because you would have stopped us," Sirius added.

"But what does it – ?"

Remus broke off when Peter's face grew alarmed and his hand flew up to touch his nose. "I thig I'b goig to sdeeze," he announced, because making a sound rather like  _"Snorg-RuhHEEEW!"_

Remus had enough experience of James and Sirius's pranks to duck out the way as the boy opposite him sneezed violently. This was unfortunate for the Hufflepuff third year who was sitting at his table behind Remus, and therefore received the full brunt of the blast to the back of his head, which turned out to be an explosion of nine green jellybeans that fired out of Peter's nose with rather alarming force.

James and Sirius were howling with laughter as the Hufflepuff yelped with pain and swung round, only to receive the next volley of jellybeans to his face.

Laughter was growing up and down the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables as the next round of jellybeans ricocheted off the silver bacon plate and pinged back towards the windows behind Peter's and James's heads.

"What hab you  _dode_  to be?" Peter demanded, between sneezes. People were shrieking in disgust as green jellybeans landed in their food and drink.

"Don't worry, mate," James said, patting his shoulder. "It'll wear off in a few minutes. And the spots are gone. Sirius is brilliant to have come up with this, isn't he?"

"You!" Peter choked at Sirius, and deliberately aimed his next sneeze at the helplessly laughing animagus, who failed to duck in time and was pelted with high-force jellybeans, one of which lodged in his right ear.

"Nice one, Wormtail!" James hammered Peter on the back and laughing even harder.

Remus couldn't help joining in as Sirius yelped and tried to crawl under the table, attempting to lever the bean out of his ear at the same time. Even Peter was laughing now, also ducking down under the table to chase him along the corridor of people's legs, firing beans at Sirius retreating form as he scrambled after him.

"Really, James," Remus said, trying to retain his reproving tone through his snickers. "That was cruel. Poor little Pete trusts you."

James widened his eyes innocently. "It was Sirius's idea," he said. "And it did everything we promised it would  _and_ more. It's a  _Marauder_ style spot-clearing potion."

"But…"

"Forget it, Remus," Lily interrupted, scowling at the grinning James. "You know better than to argue with an idiot. He'll drag you down to his level, and then beat you with experience."

"Aren't you in awe of our potion-brewing brilliance?" James asked her, his smile faltering a bit.

"It's not like you use it for anything productive!" she snapped at him. "You've caused complete mayhem at the breakfast table, and most of the food is now inedible with Pettigrew's nose-beans flying everywhere." Remus couldn't help noticing that the side of her mouth was twitching, as though she were trying desperately hard not to find the situation amusing and was failing.

"But it  _was_ brilliant?" James asked hopefully.

"Only in that – "

" _Mr. Black!"_

The laughter subsided as Professor McGonagall strode up the table, reached down to pull Sirius out from underneath by the collar of his robes and dragged him back to the Marauders' section of the table. She pointed furiously at Peter's half-drunk potion. " _What_ , may I ask, is  _that_?"

Sirius tried to look meek and innocent and failed dismally as he was still sniggering. "It's modified bubotuber potion," he told her.

" _Thirty_ points from Gryffindor!" she said, "And detention with me for the rest of the week! How  _dare_ you test new potions on your classmates!"

"I tested it on myself first," Sirius assured her, and Remus was rather surprised at the care usually-rather-thoughtless Sirius shown for Peter. Sirius could have easily made the chubby boy his first test subject.

"That's no better!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "I expected better behaviour from you, Mr. Black!"

"Really?" Sirius looked intrigued. "Why?"

McGonagall stared at him for a few seconds, before shaking her head. "You know – I really don't know."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Well, you're welcome to try," Remus overheard Sirius saying, as he made his way up the stairs to the dorm in the last free period of that day. The door was jammed part-way open by the overflow of mess from the room. "But the day you get one over me, Wormtail, is the day I throw up my hands in defeat and take whatever punishment members of authority choose to dish out for me." Sirius added this last part in an irritatingly smug way, and Remus wondered whether he should offer to help Peter think up a prank just to prove Sirius wrong.

"You just wait," Peter voice said stubbornly. "I'll think of something."

Remus pushed the door open further and waded through the mess between the door and his bed. He tripped over one of Sirius's clunky black boots at the last moment, and sprawled forward onto his mattress, narrowly missing squashing Hamish who had been snoozing on his pillow. Hamish gave him a reproachful look and Remus picked him and stroked him apologetically. "This room looks worse than normal," he noted. "What's been going on here?"

"We decided we should clean out our trunks before the Christmas holidays," said a pile of dirty laundry, crumpled parchment and unwashed bed linen that had James's voice.

"Well, it smells rank." Remus tried not to inhale too deeply, and wondered if he would contract more germs by breathing through his nose or his mouth. "What  _is_ that disgusting stench?"

"We're calling it 'Prong's Pong'," Sirius told him, from where he was lying on his stomach on his bed, rummaging round in his trunk. "We found a graveyard of his dirty Quidditch socks behind the wardrobe. I'm trying to think of a way to make dung bombs that smell like that, because they would really be x-rated. I would watch my step under the window if I was you. Wormtail discovered the socks and puked over there."

Remus groaned. "Do you realise that werewolves have an extra-sensitive sense of smell?" he demanded. "I'm feeling all nauseous and light-headed right now. What did you eat for lunch, Pete? Because it smells like half-digested chicken curry.

"Wow," Peter said, looking at him with an awed expression. "You really  _do_ have an amazing sense of smell."

Remus made a disgusted noise and flung himself back on his mattress, placing Hamish on his stomach. The hedgehog huffed happily and curled up to sleep on Remus's belly. "And I had an idea for the Christmas Prank as well," Remus added. "I found a spell in the library, but I'm not going to tell you what it is until this room is tidy, and I can breathe properly again."

"Oh, Moony!" The pile-of-junk-with-James's-voice lurched in his direction pleadingly. " _Please_  tell us!"

"Please, Remus," Peter added. "I still feel sick and I need cheering up."

"We promise to tidy if you tell us," Sirius said.

"No. Not until it's clean." Remus was quite proud of how strong-willed he was being. No more Lapwolf-Lupin here. He ran his hand lightly over Hamish's spines which had been charmed fusia-pink and lime-green that morning by Sirius. "Poor Hamish," he said. "Those colours really don't do anything for you."

"You're such a pouf, Moony," Peter told him, once more displaying his complete lack of tact in sensitive subjects. "Now tell us what your idea is!"

There was a soft doggy whimper and Remus's mattress dipped. Remus looked down to see Padfoot inching onto his bed, a pitifully pleading expression on his face.  _"Moony tell. Please, Moony."_

Remus scowled. "That's underhanded, you big mutt, and you know it."

Padfoot nudged Hamish off Remus's stomach and replaced him with his own head – complete with mournful puppy-dog eyes. Hamish gave and indignant snuffle and climbed back on again, trying to nudge off Padfoot's head with his own tiny nose. The little animal really  _did_ have no sense of self preservation.

"Oh,  _all right!_ " Remus sighed, cursing his own weak will. He lifted Hamish back onto his pillow in case Padfoot's more canine urges took over – as they sometimes did when he wasn't concentrating – and sat up. He groaned, winded, when Padfoot gave an excited yelp and launched himself into his lap, but scritched him behind his ears, pausing to his nose into his thick ruff. Because Sirius-the-human washed regularly, Padfoot always had that clean, soft, puppyish smell to his fur. Padfoot wuffled happily and licked Remus's cheek.

"Well?" James demanded, the top of his head emerging from the pile, his glasses crooked. "Tell us the plan, mastermind Moony."

Remus grinned, his inner marauder taking over. "Well, I was looking up those household charms that Professor Flitwick insisted on us learning – not that they would be a bad idea, looking at this room – and I found the best spell  _ever._  I mean, we'd have to alter it a bit, because we'd want to do it on a much bigger scale, but it could be most marvellous prank we've ever done."

"Better than the ice prank?" Peter asked, as Padfoot wriggled expectantly and wuffed at Remus to hurry up. "And the Halloween pumpkin prank?"

"Well, it's a complicated charm that enables you to switch rooms upside-down. So, if , for example, we did it to this dorm, we could walk in the door and we'd be standing on the ceiling as if it were the floor and all the beds and mess and Prong's Pongy sock-pile would be upside-down on the ceiling."

"You know, I'm sure there are a couple of Padfoot's socks in there as well," James said defensively. The others ignored him.

"And then," Remus continued, "we alter a gravity charm on certain objects in the room – for example the pongy sock pile – and while everyone is standing there in shock and wondering how the world got turned upside down, the pile of socks remembers which way gravity is supposed to go and falls on their heads, while the rest of the furniture and stuff stays up there."

Padfoot gave a delighted bark which almost deafened Remus and licked his nose. Remus shoved him off his lap in disgust. "Your tongue went right up my nostril!"

Padfoot looked unrepentant.

"We're gonna drop Prong's socks on the school?" Peter asked.

"No," said Remus, with the endless patience he had developed over years of tutoring his chubby friend. "We're going to do the room-switchy charm on the great hall, and once everyone has come in for dinner, we do the altered gravity charm on all the food. One minute – shocked teachers and students staring at upside-down room, next minute – rain of food, and a delightfully Marauderish amount of mess.

"Moony, you  _are_ a genius!" Sirius exclaimed, after turning back with a pop. He launched himself back into Remus's lap, this time in human form, and licked his cheek again.

Remus wiped the slobber off absently, his mind still on the prank. "Of course, we wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, so we'd have to have some kind of charm that would cool down any hot food on the way down, and break up any big bits that might knock someone out."

"Like a roast chicken," James said.

"Or a big dumpling," Peter agreed. "A  _really_ big dumpling," he added, when the others looked at him oddly.

"Or sharp things like breadsticks," Sirius said. "We don't want anyone's eyes poked out by a breadstick. Except maybe Snivellus's."

"We'll get in  _so_ much trouble," James said, sounding delighted.

Remus rolled his eyes. "The idea is to not get caught."

"Like they'd think it was anyone else," Sirius scoffed.

"They have to be able to  _prove_ it," Remus pointed out.

"No, they don't," said Peter. "McGonagall with punish us anyway. You know that."

"True enough. Is detention every day for a month worth an evening of mayhem?"

James, Sirius and Peter looked at him as though he were insane for even asking.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was late at night, long after they had all gone to bed, and Remus was dying to tell someone about the alterations he had thought of for the plan. They kept floating round in his head and banging on the back of his eyeballs, refusing to allow him to sleep. The inner Marauder had lit a bonfire of inspiration in his mind that radiated spell ideas and plans of attack, and was now dancing round it like a demon.

Eventually he gave up and slid out of bed, tiptoeing over to Sirius's and hoping that the other boy wouldn't be too angry about being woken up in the middle of the night for no good reason. Remus slid inside his closed bed-curtains and cast a quick silencing charm. Then he gently shook Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius huffed, flexed and dropped back to sleep, lying on his back in a sprawl of limbs that reminded Remus of the way that Padfoot would sprawl in front of him, begging for a belly-scratch. It was strange how doggish so many of Sirius's characteristics had become. It wasn't as pronounced at the wolfish side of Remus, of course – Padfoot would never be as inextricably linked to Sirius as Remus was to the wolf – but they were definitely there. It happened to James and Peter as well, to a certain extent, but in Sirius it was particularly pronounced. Remus wondered if those quirks had been there before and he just hadn't noticed. Perhaps that was why Sirius's animagus form was a dog in the first place. Or maybe it was because Sirius embraced his transformation so much more enthusiastically that the other two. James and Peter had been proud and enjoyed their animal-sides, but Sirius was utterly delighted. He took every opportunity to switch from dog to man, and appeared to adore getting his ears scratched or his head patted. Perhaps, Remus thought, it was a symptom of his loveless, touchless childhood.

Remus realised he had been standing beside Sirius with a rather dopey smile on his face for a long time, and was glad no one could see him. He lit his wand, then reached down to shake Sirius harder. This time Sirius groaned, stretched and sleepily opened his eyes. When he saw Remus hovering over him, he jerked awake.

"Moony? Is everything okay? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Remus suddenly felt stupid for his impatient decision to wake Sirius up with his plans. "I just…I was…I thought…"

"C'mere." Sirius lifted up the edge of the covers and Remus gratefully slid in beside him, lying on his side and facing Sirius. Sirius pulled him closer and wrapped himself around Remus, smelling warmly of sleepy-dog and boy. "Wassup?"

"I have a plan for the prank," Remus whispered. "I had to tell someone."

He waited for a burst of frustration or annoyance, but instead Sirius gave a sleepy chuckle and drew him closer, nuzzling into Remus's neck and covering it in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. "Only you would wake m'up in th'middle of th'night to tell me that," he mumbled. "You're so ador'bly eccentric I sometimes think m'heart might pop."

Remus wondered if Sirius would have admitted that if he hadn't been half asleep.

"You don't mind?" Remus whispered back, feeling fuzzy, comfortable arousal at Sirius's attentions to his neck, and warm body pressed close.

"Love it," Sirius murmured, his mouth stilling the kisses on Remus's neck, but not moving away. "Love how y'sit unner tables, love how y'always have your wand or y'quill behind your ear. Love how y'stutter when you're nervous or 'mbarrassed. Love how y'get really absorbed in y'book 'n you smile 'n look sad when something happens to the characters. Love your Marauderish sneakiness. Love your mischievous…vious…vousness." He lifted his head and kissed Remus's lips, then the tip of his nose. "Love your wolfishness. Love your laugh. Love ev'ything abou' you. I sometimes just wan' t'eat you up so much it hurts."

Remus had never felt this content, wrapped in Sirius's warm, skinny limbs, breathing in his scent, listening to his words and knowing they were for him. He couldn't help curling into Sirius's bony chest like a sleepy wolf and letting the older boy curl round him in turn. "Love you, too," he mumbled. "Tomorrow morning, I'll make up for waking you."

Sirius huffed a laugh into his hair. "Promises, promises."

Then they both relaxed into sleep. It was only as he was about to drop off that Remus realised he'd not got around to telling Sirius's his plans. It didn't seem to matter any more in any case.


	61. Operation Rain of Food

_Even though you're growing up, you should never stop having fun._

_Nina Dobrev_

**SIRIUS:**

When Sirius woke up, he was horrified to find that his entire right side was paralysed from the neck down. Even odder, his body seem to find this arousing. He blinked his eyes open and stared up at the canopy of his bed.

The smell of sleep, warmth and boy was in the air, as well as a faint scent that put one in mind of like dry autumn leaves and chocolate. Sirius smiled as he remembered the night before and shifted his head to glance down his body. The reason for his unexpected paralysis was immediately apparent. Remus was fast asleep, curled entirely around the right side of Sirius's body. His legs were looped around Sirius's right thigh, his arms were curled around Sirius's chest, and his torso was resting on the right side of Sirius's body, head tucked neatly under his chin.

What made Sirius even more cheerful was the fact that even through his slight paralysis, he could feel the pressure of Remus's arousal against his hip. Sirius gave the werewolf an experimental poke, and Remus murmured, then curled up tighter in a rather Hamish-like manner.

"Moooooooony…" Sirius chanted, glad that he could still feel the tingle of Remus's silencing charm on the curtain from the night before. "Wakey, wakey, Moooooony..."

"Gnorfl," Remus mumbled, and burrowed into Sirius's chest.

"My right arm and leg are about to turn black and fall off, Moony," Sirius said in a singsong voice, wriggling a bit under Remus's weight. Remus's hips bucked and his eyes snapped open. Sirius was too surprised by his reaction to do more than stare at him stupidly.

"Padfoot?" Remus asked, tilting his head up to stare at Sirius from sleepy amber eyes.

"I turned you on," Sirius told him smugly, wriggling his hip again, and feeling the automatic reaction from Remus again as his body responded.

Remus's eyes widened and he scrambled away, almost falling from the bed. "Oh, Merlin, Sirius, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry?" Sirius tugged Remus's resisting body back against him, flexing his tingling arm and leg as the blood returned to them. "Don't be sorry, Moony. It was fun." He gathered together all his Gryffindor courage and rolled onto the gaping boy beside him, allowing Remus to feel his own arousal against his hip as well. "See?"

Remus looked torn between the desire to press up against Sirius's body and throwing him off so he could run from the room. Sirius rested on his elbows and dipped his head to nuzzle into Remus's neck. "C'mon Moony. Don't be scared. It's just me." He thrust the tiniest bit against Remus, and they both let out surprised gasps as pleasure laced through them in sleepy golden tendrils that twined together in their bellies.

"P-Padfoot. We don't even know w-what we're doing." Remus's hands reached up to clutch at Sirius's sides.

"We're doing okay so far aren't we?" Sirius thrust down again, more deliberately this time and almost jumped in surprise when Remus actually growled. It was about two octaves deeper than his normal voice, and Remus's eyes were glazed with desire that lit an answering fire in Sirius. Then Remus's eyes widened and he jerked and slapped a hand to his mouth.

"Oh, God, I'm  _sorry_ ," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry!"

"Stop being  _sorry._ " Sirius held Remus still when he tried to wriggle away in mortification. "That was the sexiest thing I've  _ever_ heard."

Remus stilled. "What?"

Sirius laughed breathlessly. " _Wild thing… you make my heart sing…_ "

Remus groaned. "Please don't sing at a time like this. It completely ruins the mood."

"Well, what would you rather do?" Sirius asked, grinning down at him, then opening his mouth to sing again.

He gasped instead when Remus wrapped both arms and legs around him – in answer or in an effort to stop him singing, Sirius wasn't sure - and arched up against him. Either way Sirius wasn't complaining. "Moony!"

At that moment, the curtain was flung back with cheerful abandon. "Hey, Padfoot, I think Moony already went down for –  _OH MY EYES! MY POOR TORTURED EYES!_ "

Sirius and Remus jerked apart with shrieks and both made a grab for the bed curtains, which they pulled together quickly.

" _James Potter, this is the day you DIE!_ " Sirius yelled through the closed curtains.

"...My eyes… my eyes…" was his only reply.

"Were they shagging?" Peter's voice asked with interest. "I didn't think they shagged yet. Just kissed and stuff…" There was a pause, then, " _Oh, Merlin - my brain! My brain! Must…scrub…away…images…_ "

" _You_  need to scrub away images?" James moaned.

"For the love of Merlin's baggy underpants, we  _weren't_ shagging!" Sirius yelled. He paused then, remembering his rather limited knowledge in the men-shagging-men area and added, "What exactly  _were_ you picturing?"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I don't know how you can find this all so funny, Moony," Sirius grumbled, as the two of them tramped back from the kitchens with food as peace offering for traumatising their friends. "I would have thought you, of all people, would be horribly embarrassed and prudish about the whole thing."

"Why?" Remus asked. "It's hilarious. Did you see his face as he opened the curtains? It was brilliant!"

"Good God, I'm going out with a closet exhibitionist," Sirius groaned, and tried to knock himself unconscious with a piece of fruit cake. Remus grabbed the cake from him and rolled his eyes.

"I didn't  _want_ them to see, but you have to look at the funny side of it.  _Lungwort,_ " he added to the Fat Lady as they arrived at the portrait hole.

"What funny side of it?" Sirius demanded. "I can see the embarrassing side, and the traumatising side, and the never-wanting-to-look-them-in-the-eye-again side, but no  _funny_ side."

"And you call yourself a Marauder," Remus said, shaking his head and climbing though the portrait hole. "Are you ashamed that they know you were nearly shagging me?"

He said it teasingly, but when Sirius glanced at him, he saw the shadow of seriousness and uncertainty in his expression. He felt his annoyance soften. "Course not, Moony. There's no one else I would rather be caught almost shagging. It's just that I would rather not be caught almost shagging  _at all_." He saw the uncertainty melt and felt himself relax. "Besides, we weren't anywhere near shagging. We were wearing too many clothes for one thing."

They stopped talking as they passed a group of fourth years playing exploding snap and made their way over to where James and Peter were sitting in 'their' chairs by the fire.

"Peace offering. Cake." Sirius dumped his load into James's lap while Remus did the same for Peter.

"This piece looks squished," Peter said.

"Sirius was using it as a blunt weapon. It'll be fine. Just pick the hair off."

"You think fruit cake will help scour my brain of the image of you two going at it in my own bedroom?" James screwed his face up at the memory.

"It's our bedroom, too," Sirius pointed out.

"Besides," Remus added. "There's chocolate cake as well."

"That only works for chocoholics like you, Moony," Peter told him, the side of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

"You know you were turned on by it, really, Prongs." said Sirius, taking the piece of squashed fruit cake from Peter's chubby hand and biting into it cheerfully.

"Yeah, whatever, Black." James flicked a piece of cherry at Sirius, who caught it in his mouth, and grinned in a distinctly doggish manner.

"If you're just going to sit and pick all the fruit out of that cake, there'll be nothing left," Peter scolded James. "Give it to me if you're not going to eat it. It's a waste of good food."

"Dry fruit is the food of dark wizards, crones, Slytherins and my Great Uncle Albert," James said. "I don't know how they can ruin a good fruit cake by putting it in."

"Speaking of wasting food," Remus added, "I had some ideas for improvements to Operation Rain of Food. I thought we could make it a bit more fun and sporting since it's Christmas, and all."

"You're not backing out on us, are you, Moony?" James frowned at him.

Remus shook his head and stole most of the chocolate cake back from Peter's lap as the other Marauder made a dive to rescue James's picked-out raisins before they were flicked into the fire. "I'm adding to it. It'll be brilliant if it works. Only problem is, we need to get the house elves to cooperate."

"Well, that's okay then," Sirius said cheerfully. "They adore James and me. We're their best customers."

"I don't actually remember you paying for anything," said Peter, peering down at his lap and frowning, before looking up to spot Remus's chocolaty smirk. "It's more like you're their best kitchen thieves. And just so you know, Remus, it doesn't count as a peace offering if the chocolate cake was only on loan."

Remus shrugged. "I wasn't that sorry anyway. Fruit-cake-sorry, maybe. But not chocolate-cake-sorry."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A week later, on the morning of the day on which Operation Rain of Food was scheduled, the Marauders woke to find the grounds of Hogwarts knee-deep in snow. Sirius stared out of the dorm window at the wintery world stretched out below him. The sky – still dark indigo this early in the morning, was brilliantly fresh and clear, and the clean sweep of the snow with its shadowy hollows where it built up in drifts against trees, the Quidditch stands and the castle walls was shadowed white-blue like antique bone china.

"This is perfect," he said. "No one can  _not_ enjoy our prank now."

"Come on, Padfoot," Remus said, tugging him away from the window. "We've got to go down and finish activating the spells before anyone else gets up."

Half an hour later, Sirius, Remus and Peter were placing the last of the charms on the massive wooden frame of the doors into the Great Hall, and James was double checking that the house elves were still going to go through with their part of the prank.

"Let's get back," Sirius murmured, with a last flick of his wand. "We have about an hour before the first people will be waking up and coming down. We need to be back in our dorm by then."

They met James halfway back to the Gryffindor tower when he appeared from beneath his invisibility cloak with a wicked grin on his face. "I think they're actually as excited about it as we are," he whispered. "Who knew the Hogwarts house elves had such a sense of humour? As long as everyone gets to eat in the end they're perfectly happy."

Sirius grinned, newer and greater pranks springing to mind with the promise of house-elf cooperation. Remus poked him in the ribs. "Steady on there, Pads. Let's pull this one off first before you go planning the next one."

Sirius stared at him in admiration. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

"That wickedly inventive gleam you and James get in your eyes is unmistakeable," Remus said wryly.

Sirius hooked an arm around his waist and cast a quick glance around the empty corridor, before tugging Remus in and planting a kiss on his surprised mouth.

"Do you  _mind?_ " James hissed. "We're meant to be sneaking here."

"We are sneaking," Sirius said.

"I don't mean sneaking kisses off Moony," James answered.

"But he's so cute and irresistible!"

"Still here," Remus said, rolling his eyes, "and in no way cute."

"Keep telling yourself that, babe," Sirius whispered into his ear as the climbed back through the portrait hole.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

They could hear the commotion from the Great Hall while they were still two corridors away as they made their way back down at breakfast time. Students were yelling and laughing, teachers were calling for order and post owls were screeching in confusion.

"Music to my ears," James said with a grin, as they strolled into the main corridor and made their way through to the Great Hall.

It was better than Sirius ever imagined. The entire hall had been inverted. The stone floor, the four house tables, the raised platform on which the staff table rested, and all the dishes full of food were planted neatly on the ceiling, looking completely unaffected by a force as insignificant as gravity.

However, it was the surface they were all standing on that was the most disconcerting. They hadn't been entirely certain how the enchanted ceiling would react to the spell, but the result was brilliant. Beneath their feet, on the seemingly solid surface, was bright, endless, sapphire-blue sky, with a few misty clouds skittering across its gleaming surface. A light shower of snowflakes were falling  _upwards_  and the house banners that usually hung over each table stood illogically vertical, defying all the laws of gravity, and billowing like sails in the breeze that came in through the big double doors of the Great Hall.

That had been the hardest charm to perform – the one that removed the main doors from the rest of the spell so that they remained the right way up while the rest of the hall was turned upside-down.

Students and teachers were everywhere – some whooping in delight, others edging along the walls looking terrified. A few were trying to call order, while the more hungry adolescents were eyeing the unreachable breakfast longingly.

"This is completely awesome," Sirius breathed, commenting on both the room and the chaos they had caused.

There was no reply from Remus, and when Sirius turned to look at him, he saw that he was clinging tightly to a ceiling beam and staring with travel-sick greenness at the sky and moving clouds beneath his feet.

"Moony?"

"I thought being scared of heights was bad," Remus moaned, memories of Operation Pumpkin Spider's preparations obviously clear in his mind. "It's even worse when the 'heights' are the wrong way up, and are now technically 'downs'."

"You didn't used to be afraid of heights," Peter said.

"That was before Sirius almost died falling off that ledge. And before I saw the stupid things he and James do on brooms. Now the thought of them makes me queasy."

"Poor Remus," James patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry. Practically the whole school is in here now. Sirius and I will trigger the food spells now so you can get out of here as soon as possible."

"You do that," Remus said, swaying slightly.

Sirius reached out to hug him around the shoulders, before sneaking behind a roof beam with James, subtly pointing their wands at the ceiling and muttering the triggering charm. There were a few moments of tingling uncertainty, before every piece of food that was on the breakfast table suddenly remembered those pesky laws of gravity and plummeted towards the ground.

 _This_ was where house-elf cooperation had come in handy. The food that flew, splashed, splattered and coated the hoards of shrieking students and teachers consisted of scrambled eggs, custard, lukewarm porridge, yogurt, chocolate sauce, gravy and every other kind of soft-or-mostly-liquid dish the house elves could think of. Strawberry mousse clung to previously immaculate hairstyles, ice-cream dribbled down the backs of a hundred necks, rains of mayonnaise pattered down on shocked, upturned faces.

The volume level rose dramatically and the hall was now filled with yells, shrieks, hysterics, laughter and demands for order.

There were a few blissfully anarchic minutes before a few students gained their bearings and hurried towards the main doors to escape the chaos. Sirius grinned in satisfaction when they gasped as they past through the massive doorframes and Remus's powerful cleaning charm washed over them. They came out on the other side looking surprised, but well-scrubbed.

"You reckon we should shove Snivellus back and forward through the door a few times?" Peter asked. "If his hair had a few good scrubs, it would improve everyone's quality of life."

"Nice one, Wormtail," James grinned. "But we'd probably only draw attention to ourselves. We promised Moony we would keep a low profile."

" _HEY!"_

Everyone in the hall jumped as the voice of a prefect who had cast  _sonorous_  on himself thundered over the noise. " _IF YOU GO THROUGH THE DOORS THEY CLEAN YOU. AND YOU HAVE_ _ **GOT**_ _TO SEE WHAT'S GOING ON OUTSIDE!_ "

There were a few moments of confusion, before everyone caught on and there was a stampede towards the doors. The Marauders followed at a more sedate pace to avoid being crushed underfoot like a number of unfortunate first years. They followed the general flow of people out of the Great Hall, into the main corridor, then out of the massive front doors and onto the long, sloping, snow-covered lawn that lay outside.

Spread out on dozens of huge picnic blankets was a breakfast-picnic fit for a castle full of kings. The house elves had really outdone themselves. Hot buttered toast, steaming bacon and sausages, giant silver tureens of porridge, pumpkin juice, kippers, eggs… the sheer amount of food boggled Sirius's senses.

Students were already falling on the food hungrily, running round in the snow armed with toast and snowballs, and filling the icy winter air with laughter and shouts of delight.

"Gentlemen?"

The four Maurauders turned around to find Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall standing behind them. Dumbledore looked delighted, his blue eyes twinkling madly, and even Professor McGonagall looked like she was trying to hold back a smile.

"Who? Us?" Jame said, contriving to look innocent.

"Yes," Professor Dumbledore said. "You."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for subjugating my house elves into joining you in your plotting and mischief making," said Professor McGonagall. "Fifty points off for the mess in the Great Hall."

"Fifty points for a beautifully cast cleaning charm on the doors," added Dumbldore. "And fifty for organising this marvellous snow-picnic."

The Marauders stared at their teachers open-mouthed.

"Oh yes," said Professor McGonagall, just as she was about to turn away. "Detention every Wednesday and Friday evening until Christmas. And please go and inform Professor Flitwick as to which charms you used on our Great Hall so it can be rectified and cleaned before lunch."

She and Professor Dumbledore strolled away to dish themselves up some sausages.

"Do you think they remember that the Christmas holidays are only a week away?" Peter asked.

"Yep," James, Sirius and Remus answered promptly.

"Yes, I suppose they do," Peter agreed, and was then knocked flat on his back by a stray snowball from Hagrid, the massive grounds keeper.


	62. Who Funds the Dark Lord's Rising?

_"Life is funny. Things change, people change, but you will always be you, so stay true to yourself and never sacrifice who you are for anyone."_   
_(Zayn Malik)_

**REMUS:**

The last week of school before Christmas passed in a flurry of packing, holiday homework and snowfalls. Perhaps the only notable thing that happened was that, after the great success of 'Operation Rain of Food' and armed with his new spot-free appearance, Peter finally plucked up the courage to ask out Doreen Short, who (not to anyone's great surprise, because she, as Sirius had rather unkindly commented to Remus and James, was unlikely to be getting any better offers, except from boys who had a moustache fetish), said yes.

An illegal night-time date in the kitchens, two days of holding hands between classes, and the swapping of addresses meant that Peter left for the holidays in dazzlingly high spirits.

Remus, on the other hand, was unsure how he was going to cope with two Sirius-free weeks at home. The Marauders had agreed to meet up at Peter's house in the last week of the holidays, but that seemed like such a long time from Remus's position on the opposite side of the time-span.

On the plus side, he would get to see Neil and Angela again. It was wonderful to be able to step off the train and see them waiting for him on the station along with all the other parents. It made him feel like part of a real family for the first time in a very long while. Even though he was compelled to greet them with fifteen-year-old-boy nonchalance, he knew neither of them had missed the happiness in his eyes.

"So what are the rest of the trouble-makers up to this holiday?" Neil asked, as the waited in the line for the floo station.

"Sirius went to the Potters," Remus told him. "And Peter's gone home as well. We're going to him for the last week of the holidays."

"Doesn't he have Muggle relatives visiting?" asked Angela, as she handed over some sickles for floo powder to the station attendant.

"Yep. I don't think his parents really realise what they're getting into, to be honest."

Neil laughed. "I doubt it. Off you go, Remus."

Remus stepped through the emerald-green flames and out onto the hearth rug in Angela and Neil's house. Being used to the luxuries of Hogwarts, Remus always forgot quite how frugally his adoptive parents lived. Although the house was clean and neat, the furniture was all old and worn – bought from second-hand shops in Diagon Alley and Muggle London.

In spite of this, the whole house emanated cosiness and warmth. A Christmas tree stood beside the lounge window, glittering red, green, gold and silver with a mixture of magically charmed decorations and muggle fairy lights. Beneath it, a small pile of presents were carefully wrapped and arranged around the trunk.

"We were going to put it up when you came home," Angela told him, "But school finished late this year, and we thought you would rather come home to a Christmassy house."

"It's wonderful," Remus told her, looking around him and feeling a fountain of warmth spring up in his chest. "I always dreamed of Christmases like this when I was little."

"There aren't a lot of presents," Neil added. "We're a little strapped for cash. But Angela's planning a brilliant Christmas dinner, which you are not allowed to help cook under any circumstances."

"Hey!" Remus aimed a playful punch at his adoptive father, but Neil ducked out of the way in time, his still-boyish face lighting up with a mischievous, crooked smile.

"You'll have to do better than that, lad!"

Angela rolled her eyes and stepped around them to light the living room fire. Then, as Neil and Remus mock-tussled on the floor, she went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Soon the house was filled with the warm smell of cottage pie, and as a new flurry of snow fell outside the window, the air tasted of Christmas.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Christmas day passed, as Remus had always dreamed, like a fairytale holiday. There weren't a lot of presents, but they were all carefully picked out or made, and felt all the more precious for it. Remus hid the tape of Muggle love songs that Sirius had sent him, along with the rather melodramatic and soppy note that accompanied it in true Padfoot style. Remus was only glad Sirius had the sense not to charm it to sing out loud. He wasn't quite ready to tell Neil and Angela about his relationship, and that would have been rather revealing.

It was two days later that the fairytale Remus was living in came to a sudden end, with no optimistic happily-ever-afters in sight. The cause of this abrupt return to reality came in the form of a  _Daily Prophet_  article on the day after Boxing Day.

"They're happening more and more often," Neil announced at the breakfast table that morning, as Angela ladled porridge into bowls, and Remus chewed sleepily on a piece of toast. He jumped when Angela's apron pocket sent out a long strip of fabric to nick the toast out of his hands, and attempted to consume it before he could wrestle it back. One thing he  _never_ missed was Angela's rather eccentric dress sense.

"What are?" Angela asked, batting Remus's hand away from her pocket and sitting down beside her husband.

"Look at this. Three more attacks on Muggles in the last two weeks alone."

"Attacks?" Remus asked. In all the drama of the last term, he hadn't been paying much attention to the newspaper. "By that dark wizard's followers? Voldemort?"

"Yes." Angela exchanged a quick look with Neil. "You haven't heard about it at school?"

"I haven't had much of a chance to read newspapers. Why? Why are you looking at me so strangely?"

"Well, according to some articles, he's been recruiting followers young. A lot of people are saying that even students are joining him. Particularly pure-blood ones. He's fighting for pure-blood supremacy."

Remus stopped eating as he had a sudden, brief memory of James relating what happened in Dumbledore's office after Sirius had pulled his dangerous prank on Snape. Dumbledore had threatened the Slytherin by saying he would let people know where he had really been planning on going that night if he revealed Remus's secret. Remus felt his stomach clenching and rolling at the thought.

"What are they saying about it?" he asked. "Voldemort is getting stronger? Why aren't the Aurors doing anything?"

Neil gave him a sharp look. "Of course they are, lad. It's nothing for you to be worrying about. Try this porridge before it gets cold. Angela has really outdone herself. It usually tastes like wet concrete."

But Remus couldn't forget it, particularly in light of Neil and Angela's reactions. Every time he tried to bring up the subject again, they started talking about something else, skillfully maneuvering the conversation to unrelated topics. Eventually, unable to sleep that night, Remus crept out of bed, snuck downstairs to the kitchen. He opened the pantry, lighting his wand and shining it inside. He was relieved to see the old newspapers were stored where they always had been, beneath the shelves in a pile on the stone floor, right beside the large, clay potato bin.

He settled down beside the pile, and as quietly as he could, he started leafing through the many old papers, searching for scraps of information in their pages – anything that Neil and Angela might have wanted to hide from him.

… _Two more attacks on Muggles in East Sussex. Aurors suspect they are targeting Muggles who are in contact with the Wizarding World…_

… _Dark Lord's throng of followers are rumoured to be growing by the day. It is being said that he is seeking to build an army…_

… _In spite of all evidence to the contrary, the head of the Auror Department at the Ministry of Magic says that the situation is under control. When asked why the attacks on Muggles and Muggleborns are only increasing, he answered that…_

… _New reports from sources at Gringotts saying that many sympathetic families and powerful persons are secretly donating large amounts of money to Voldemort's cause. Goblins who run the bank are refusing to allow Aurors to breach security by…_

… _Some are saying that Lord Voldemort is such a powerful Dark Wizard that merely by saying his name, one can bring down a curse on themselves and those they love. The Minister describes this idea as the 'ludicrous ravings of fanatics who want to fan the flames of panic in the Wizarding World'…_

… _New evidence that Lord Voldemort is now recruiting dark creatures in his bid for power. Aurors intercepted emissaries on their way to negotiate with the giants in the Scottish Mountains, and there is strong evidence that he has even gained werewolf followers with promises of new, powerful potions that will aid them in transformations and better rights for their species in the new regime he has planned for running the Wizarding World. We ask our readers – what are the Aurors doing to prevent this wicked man from creating a society in which evil dark creatures like werewolves, hags and giants are given the same rights as good citizens?…_

Remus closed his eyes and felt a rush of sick dizziness wash over him as he read the last article. He hated himself for the wave of longing and joy at the mention of Voldemort's promised potions. He hated that there was some deep part of himself that felt a dark satisfaction that the Aurors were struggling to control the man who promised equal rights to creatures such as himself. Especially once he'd read the views of the reporter and the public when they heard about this new development.

 _But I know the truth_ , he thought to himself fiercely.  _I know about men like Voldemort. My father was one of them. They will promise anything to gain power over you, and they have no intention of ever giving it. They speak so beautifully that you believe every word, even as they slowly take away your freedom and your lives and rights. Those werewolves will be nothing more than slaves._

He looked down at the article again and clenched his fists.  _No, Remus. You know the truth of it. There are no potions. There will be no equal rights. There will be nothing for people like you other than slavery. You know that. Stop dreaming._

It was a beautiful dream, but life had taught Remus to recognise that that was what it was. Just a dream. And he would  _fight_ the man who allowed cursed people like himself to believe any different, and so increase their suffering.

 _I know the truth_ , he thought.  _But they don't. They don't…_

And then, in a rush like a bucket of cold water over his head, he thought of Neil and Angela, and how they always seemed so poor, even with two full-time Ministry salaries coming in - even with Neil's recent promotion. They should have at least been living comfortably, even well.

Remus scrabbled thought the papers again until he found the other article that had caught his eye.

… _New reports from sources at Gringotts saying that many sympathetic families and powerful persons are secretly donating large amounts of money to Voldemort's cause. Goblins who run the bank are refusing to allow Aurors to breach security by…_

"Please, please say you're not doing what I thing you're doing," Remus whispered, his hands clenching round the paper he held. He knew for a fact that Neil and Angela would move mountains if it meant finding a cure to help him. He knew how much they hated to think of the way he suffered every month. Would they be taken in by Voldemort's promises of potions and rights for werewolves?

" _There aren't a lot of presents,"_ Neil had said. _"We're a little strapped for cash_. _"_

Remus could barely read the words anymore. His vision was blurry and his hands were shaking.

" _You know we would do anything to help you, Remus."_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus didn't have the courage to ask Neil and Angela directly whether they were funding Voldemort's cause. He dropped hints, which they brushed aside. He watched them carefully, but only saw the sweet-natured, loving couple they always were, even if there was the new, underlying tension that plagued all of the Wizarding World now that Voldemort was on the rise. He felt his stomach roll every time he thought about the fact that they were probably sacrificing their morals and integrity in an effort to help cure him of his condition.

Sometimes, Remus was sure that he was being ridiculous. Boyish, cheerful, fiercely loyal Neil would never betray the Wizarding world, and the Muggles he worked to protect in that way. Stubborn, motherly, eccentric Angela, who fought so hard for the lives and right of the creatures overseen by her Department at the Ministry, would never be taken in by the promises of a homicidal dark wizard.

At other times – such as the day after the full moon without his pack to keep him from hurting himself – Remus looked into their eyes after he came around from his child-like state and  _knew_ that they would do anything, promise anything they had to, in order to alleviate his pain.

It was a very long two weeks, and Remus had to use every ounce of his acting skill to maintain his happy, Christmassy façade. He didn't dare to write to the other Marauders about his worries for fear of putting Neil and Angela at risk. If Aurors ever heard of what he suspected, they would attack first and ask questions later – questions that his adoptive parents would either refuse to, or be unable to answer for fear of hurting him. His helplessness made him miss his pack more than ever, and Moony, who refused to settle, prowled around in his mind, whining for Padfoot.

Remus thought he'd been successful in his act until two days before he was due to leave for the Pettigrews. It was nearing the end of their evening meal, and Remus was so uptight and tense that he could feel Moony wake up to prowl, growling, behind his eyes.

Angela reached over to collect his plate for washing and frowned as she noticed how little he had eaten. She put the plate down and reached out to touch a hand to Remus's forehead in a gesture so motherly that it made Remus's heart ache.

"Are you alright, love?" she asked, moving her hand to his cheek. "You don't feel as though you have a fever."

"I'm fine." Remus shrugged, too tired to keep up the act. He stared down at a gravy-spat on the tablecloth in front of him. "Just… you know…"

"No you're not, lad," Neil put in, leaning forwards. "You haven't been fine since the morning you saw that damned article. Are you worrying about Voldemort? You don't need to, you know. You're only fifteen. You should be worrying about teenagery things and leave the rest of it to us adults."

Remus shook his head, unable to meet Neil's eyes. "It's not that. Though you're wrong. Everyone should be aware and prepared. Even children. Adults can't protect children from everything, you know."

"Well, we can damn well die trying," Neil snapped, a little harshly, though a part of Remus knew that it wasn't aimed at himself

"You said yourself he was recruiting from school," Remus pointed out. "And I told you. It wasn't that I was worried about anyway."

"Well, what is it then?" Angela asked, sitting down in her seat again and looking at him seriously. "Are you missing your friends? Are you missing Sirius?"

The way she said it – the barely noticeable glance she exchanged with Neil – caused Remus to stiffen. "What's that supposed to mean?" He didn't mean it to come out so sharply, but two weeks of being so on edge made him quick tempered.

"Don't snap, Remus," Angela said calmly. She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "And I think you know perfectly well what I mean. You may think you're good at hiding it, but any time someone says his name your face lights up like a lumos charm. And if that didn't give it away, the way that child-like-you cried for him after the full moon last week was unmistakeable."

Remus's insides turned to lead and plummeted downwards. He clutched at the edge of the table as he swayed with the impact of the shock. They knew. They knew about him and Sirius. He couldn't help hearing Lily's voice in his mind;  _"Remus, it's really frowned on in Wizarding society. I mean it's frowned on in Muggle society, but in Wizarding society it's even worse and things could get really nasty for you if people found out."_

Was this the longest he would manage to keep a family? It seemed he was destined to be something that would break apart any family he became part of for the rest of his life.

"I… W-we… w-w-we haven't… I mean S-Sirius…" Remus was desperate to explain himself, to make them understand, and he hated how his stutter always turned up at the worst, most emotionally-charged moments where he needed to speak  _clearly_  and stand up for himself.

He froze when a warm hand covered his own. He looked down, expecting to see Angela's slender fingers resting over his own, but to his amazement, it was Neil's blunt ones that came into blurry view as he focused on them. "It's okay, lad. We're not angry or disgusted or any of the things you're thinking right now."

Remus's heart gave a hopeful quiver from where it was lodged deep in his stomach, and his eyes followed the line of Neil's arm and up to his earnest face, surrounded by his mop of sandy-coloured hair.

"You're n-not?"

"Of course we aren't," Angela said. She reached out and covered Neil's and Remus's hands with her own. "When are you going to realise that we're a  _family_ , Remus? We don't judge one another for things that we can't help. In fact, we feel  _happy_ and  _grateful_  that you have been able to find someone who knows what you are, and still obviously cares so deeply for you."

Remus grimly fought back the tears that wanted to flood his eyes and run treacherously down his cheeks.

"We've known for ages," Neil added. "Since we went to rescue Sirius from the Black house. I can't deny that it was a bit of a shock at first, but we were never disgusted with you, Remus." The small, apologetic glance Neil shot at Angela led Remus to believe that Angela's fast talking may have had something to do with Neil's magnanimous view of his adoptive son's sexuality, but he couldn't bring himself to care. This easy acceptance was more than he could ever have dreamed of.

Suddenly, it didn't seem to matter who Neil and Angela were giving their money to. The lingering, underlying resentment that had lurked like a guilty spider in Remus's chest had scuttled away, and he was left with only the warm fuzz of family in its place.

He would talk to James and Sirius and together they would think of a way to stop Neil and Angela from funding Voldemort's cause. But until then, he would try not to worry. After all, what difference would their little contribution make to the Dark Lord in the end?

"Now, I think it's time we talked about safe sex," Angela said cheerfully.

The warm fuzz disappeared.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus was the first to arrive at the Pettigrew's house two days later. Because Peter's family lived in a Muggle neighbourhood, and had Muggle family staying with them, Remus had to arrive by Muggle transport. Luckily, living in a Muggle neighbourhood themselves, Neil and Angela had a car – a very battered Ford Escort which Neil referred to as 'my old girl' – that managed to bang and pop along all the way to Kent with only minimal aid from magic to stop its exhaust pipe from falling off.

The Pettigrews lived in a cheerful housing estate full of houses that had once all been exactly alike, but over the years had been moulded by their inhabitants to suit their own families. The Pettigrews had a haphazardly tidy front garden that screamed 'quickly fixed up for the visitors'. The lawn was mowed, and bright annuals were in the beds, but the weeds growing in the path and along the edges of the flower beds, and the tell-tale lightening in the grass where long standing objects had been recently moved, spoke of a recent clean-up operation.

Peter had obviously been watching for his friends out of his front window, because as soon as Remus, Neil and Angela started up the garden path, the front door was thrown open with an enthusiastic shout of, "Moony!"

"I can't believe that awful nickname stuck," Angela commented, as she and Neil stood well back, and Remus was hammered on the back in enthusiastic greeting.

"It's grown on me," Remus told her, grabbing Peter into a casual headlock and ruffling his mousy blonde hair. Peter yelled and went scarlet in protest, but because of Remus's werewolf strength, had no way of breaking free until his hair was well and truly mussed.

"Merlin's balls, Rem, I always forget how strong you are," Peter panted, straightening up and trying to fix his hair.

"You practically hammered my spleen out my stomach," Remus pointed out.

"True. S'good to see you, Moony."

Remus smiled and jammed his hands into his pockets to stop himself from hugging Peter fiercely. He really hadn't realised how much he missed him until he saw him again. "You too, Pete."

"Moon alright?"

Remus shrugged. "No pack. New scars. It was okay."

Peter glanced over Remus's shoulder. "Alright, Professor Anders? Angela?"

"I'm not your professor anymore, Peter," Neil said. "You're welcome to call me by my first name."

"You're joking, right? I can never shake off the feeling you're going to give Remus detention when he calls you that. My Mum wants to meet you as well. Come inside."

Remus and the Anders followed Peter into the house, which gave the same impression of swift clean-up as the garden. The furniture looked relatively new, but flimsy – the kind of Muggle furniture that can be glued together by any slap-dash DIY hopeful, and will usually last a couple of years if it's propped up by books and other furniture towards the end.

Peter led them to the kitchen where his mother and a plump, mousy girl who might have had a fairly pretty face once it was excavated from beneath two inches of makeup, were peeling potatoes and gossiping cheerfully to one-another. The girl looked to be eighteen or nineteen, and Remus guessed it was Peter's cousin, Sheryl, who had fallen victim to the perfume prank at the end of second year for spilling pink nail varnish on Peter's bedroom carpet.

"Mum? Sheryl? This is Remus, and his parents, Neil and Angela Anders."

Remus was amused to note that Peter flinched as he said the name 'Neil'.

"Mrs. Anders! Come in and sit down. I'll get you a cup of tea. Sheryl, be a dear and put the potatoes on to boil – no in the other pot, I'm going to use that one for the beans.  _Do_ sit down. Here, I'll move the cat off the chair.  _So_ glad to meet you, Remus. Peter talks about you all the time –  _watch that hot water, Sheryl_  – and I've been dying to meet you. Sugar? Milk?"

Mrs. Pettigrew – who looked a lot like an older, female version of her son – bustled around the kitchen rather haphazardly, picking up a clean mug, dropping it into the sink, getting a new one, moving the cat, forgetting where she put the teabags, and eventually managing to compile together a few mugs of tea. Peter grabbed Remus's elbow and steered him out of the room while the parents were busy.

"Sorry about that. She gets all flustered with visitors around."

Remus smiled. "It's okay. I like her. Wow – a real Muggle lounge."

"Shh! We're not supposed to say the 'm' word while my family are here." Peter motioned to a boy of about their age who lounged on the sofa watching a lot of tiny men running round after a ball on what Remus recognised as a television. "Hey, Ed!"

The boy, who was wearing a rather scruffy t-shirt and flared jeans grunted and glanced up briefly. He had the same mousy hair that ran in the family, but seemed to have luckily missed out on the gene that caused plumpness and the hopeless lack of dress sense.

"This is Remus. My friend from school."

Ed's nodded, belched and muttered, "Pleasure," before turning back to the television. Remus wondered if he was referring to his belch or the introduction to his cousin's friend.

"My Dad and my Aunt and Uncle are out looking at the cliffs," Peter explained. They'll be back soon. Take a seat."

Remus sat on the edge of the rather distressingly floral-patterned sofa and looked wistfully out the window. "D'you know when Sirius and James are getting here?"

He glanced at Peter who was eyeing him with uncharacteristic empathy.

"Any minute now, they said. Rough few weeks?" Peter cast a quick glance at Ed, who appeared to be absorbed in the television.

Remus gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Moony misses his pack," he said quietly. "We both do."

"And Sirius most, yeah?" Peter gave him a knowing look and Remus flushed, casting a warning glance in Ed's direction, but was prevented from saying anything by the loud roar of a motorbike screeching to a halt in front of the Pettigrews' house, and only narrowly missing the rather flimsy front fence. He and Peter exchanged looks.

"Please tell me he didn't," Remus murmured, as Peter dragged him to his feet.

Peter was unable to fulfill this request, however, because they opened the front door to see two lanky, helmeted figures climbing off the bike. Remus knew nothing about motorbikes, but he had to agree that this gleaming mass of shining chrome, glossy black and condensed speed had Sirius written all over it.

Then he stopped looking at the bike altogether, because its owner was swaggering up the front path dressed in flared black jeans, tight black t-shirt, and leather jacket; glossy hair falling with casual grace into wicked grey eyes, and shining helmet tucked under his arm. Two weeks with Mrs. Potter's cooking had clearly managed to restore Sirius to his former glory.

" _Gnorfl_ ," said Remus, who had temporarily forgotten all words of the English language that would be suitable for use outside a very private setting, possibly containing a bed.

"Eyes up, Moony," James said, sounding amused. "His face is approximately twenty inches north of where you're looking right now."

Remus spared a glance for the messy-haired marauder. " _Squiffib_ ," he explained.

"I know," James said, nodding sagely. "I told him wearing so much black leather would be detrimental to your sanity."

"Like he's one to talk," Sirius complained, waving towards Remus, "Dressed up all sexily like that."

Remus, who was actually dressed in his most boring brown corduroy trousers and a neatly ironed white button-down shirt, gaped at him, this time in insulted shock. Luckily, it managed to kick-start his brain again – enough, anyway, for him to say, " _Me?_  I'm not the one swaggering around in black leather and tight jeans. This is my most boring and literary outfit, I'll have you know. I wanted to maintain a low profile."

"Well, you failed," Sirius said. "You just look very erotically scholarly and bookish. You couldn't have picked out a more provocative outfit if you tried." He lounged against the fence post and crossed his feet lazily at the ankles, which only succeeded in drawing Remus's eyes downwards again.

"You have some bizarre kinks, Padfoot," Remus grumbled. "Please tell me you've packed some normal clothes as well,"

"We're not allowed to wear robes here," Sirius reminded him. "All the Muggles, see. Prongs and I went shopping for clothes, and you'll not  _believe_ some of the stuff Muggles wear. We've never worn Muggle clothes before, so we had to hang around London for a bit observing people to see what we should wear."

"Where was that? A biker's bar?" Peter eyed the metal studs in Sirius's leather jacket. "I think that jacket was actually nailed together."

Sirius shrugged. "I like it."

"So how've you been, lads?" James asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his much-more-ordinary jeans and giving his trademark pumpkin grin. "Holding up okay? How was the moon, Rem?"

Remus shrugged, thinking about all the things he's been dying to tell his friends, and almost collapsing in relief now that they were here again. It was strange how he felt so much safer and more confident with them around. "It was okay. Missed you lads."

"It's good to see you, Moony." The abrupt change of Sirius's tone from joking to that gentle, almost vulnerable voice that he'd only ever used on Remus, had Remus fighting back the urge to throw himself at him and blurt out all his problems.

Instead he swallowed and said, "S'good to see you, too, Padfoot."

"Oh. My. God."

The boys turned at the distinctly feminine screech behind them to see Sheryl and two other girls - who were also holding up womanfully beneath four inches of makeup, and very tight miniskirts – standing in the front doorway and staring out, open-mouthed.

"Where did they come from?" Remus hissed to Peter, not having spotted the girls earlier.

"I have no idea," the chubby Marauder replied. "They just appear sometimes. They live down the road, apparently, but I reckon Sheryl really carries them round in her pocket in mini-form, and just adds water when she feels the need for a gossip or practise their choir of girly squealing in three parts."

"Did you say they were all staying for the week?" One of Sheryl's pocket-pals demanded, casting greedy eyes over Sirius, and then James, before moving back to Sirius again. She giggled and glanced at Sirius from beneath her lashes. Sirius raised an elegant eyebrow, then turned slowly to look at Peter.

"Sorry!" Peter said, wringing his hands. "I did warn you my relatives were here. Here, let me take you up to my room. We're all squashing in there, I'm afraid."

The other Marauders trailed after him into the house, while Remus reflected that it could be a very long week if the make-up and miniskirt brigade would be trailing after them the whole time.

Even Belching-Ed deigned to look up from the television to sweep a disbelieving glance over Sirius and James, and then Peter, as if trying to figure out how they could possibly be friends with his chubby, watery-eyed cousin. Remus felt sorry for Peter who looked a mixture of indignant and proud at his family's reactions to his friends.

"It's the motorbike," Remus explained. "I can't believe you actually bought it, Padfoot. You know you can't take it to school, don't you?"

"The Potters said I could leave it at theirs. If I can escape my family, I'm going to charm it to fly this summer. What are these giant fabric tubes lying all over your floor, Wormtail?"

"Sleeping bags. You sleep in them."

James and Sirius looked at them with interest. "Cool. I get to go to bed dressed as a sausage roll," said Sirius. "Muggles are brilliant. I don't know how they come up with these things."


End file.
